


See Me Bare My Teeth For You

by 64907



Series: See Me Bare My Teeth For You [2]
Category: Arashi (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Blood, Blood and Gore, Dark, Evisceration, Explicit Sexual Content, Fingerfucking, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kidnapping, Killing, Knives, M/M, Murder, Murderers, Mutilation, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Strangulation, Violence, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-20
Updated: 2014-12-20
Packaged: 2018-03-01 22:34:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 36,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2790140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/64907/pseuds/64907
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It's art, Sho," Jun says, flipping the knife in his hand before putting the flat part of the blade stained with blood against his lips and tapping twice. "Art."</p>
            </blockquote>





	See Me Bare My Teeth For You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rochi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rochi/gifts).



> For Rose, to whom I attribute more than half of the inspiration. I hope this is to your liking.
> 
> This was inspired by the [infamous bed CM](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JEl1VloVOOU), but this clearly took a darker turn than the blatant sexual tension that CM offers, seeing as they're both entirely without conscience in this. The setting of most of their murders was inspired by [this concert tidbit](https://twitter.com/Storm4Dream/status/540843748276461568).
> 
> This story is also available on [Livejournal](http://64907.livejournal.com/2572.html).

Sho whips his head sharply, his eyes meeting Jun’s smile and his equally amused brown eyes.  
  
“What now,” he says, “you’re going to plug me?” He keeps his eyes on Jun’s face as he asks the question, and the next thing he hears is the sound of the trigger pulled, ringing loudly in the empty warehouse.

\--

“Thirty-two,” Sho says over a hot pot of morning coffee. Jun is not a morning person, so it takes a beat for him to focus on Sho, another to blink at what Sho just said.

Sho just sips his coffee, the scent of caffeine in his nostrils, the tendrils of wakefulness slowly creeping up on his gradually waking form. He watches as one of Jun’s fingers idly stroke the rim of the cup Sho poured for him before Jun’s taking a careful sip. Jun breathes a sigh of appreciation at the boost of caffeine in his senses, and Sho hides a smile behind his mug.

Jun blinks at him. “You were saying?” he asks, setting his mug down the polished table surface. He tilts his head at Sho, and Sho notices that with each blink Jun’s eyes make, Jun gradually loses the sleepiness abundant in his features from earlier.

“Thirty-two,” Sho repeats, inhaling a whiff of coffee. “That’s all we need.”

Jun looks at him with his tongue against his cheek, and Sho sees how Jun considers the proposal, how he dissects every bit of it and how he most likely attempts to imagine how it’s going to go. Sho doesn’t hide the smile forming on his face this time. He smirks, the kind he gives when he knows he’s got Jun, the kind he makes when he knows his bait has worked.

Jun takes a delicate sip of coffee, his eyes never leaving Sho’s, and for a while they simply stare at each other, Sho’s proposal lying between them along with the slightly pungent aroma flooding the apartment. Sho blinks slowly, smirk never leaving his face, and he drums his fingers against the tabletop as he waits for Jun’s inevitable agreement.

“Thirty-two,” Jun says, a clear imitation of the way Sho said it earlier. Sho’s smile grows wider. He tilts his head at Jun and raises both of his eyebrows once, and he feels like chuckling when he hears Jun’s quiet, “All right.”

Jun licks his lips and Sho watches as his tongue slowly chases away the lingering taste of coffee. Jun’s lips are glistening in the sunlight slightly entering from the gaps in the window curtains, and Sho thinks he’ll never lose appreciation on how captivating Jun can be. Jun can hold an audience, can have anyone and everyone listen to him, do his every whim without question, and Sho knows Jun knows that as much as he does.

Sho admires him for being able to employ that whenever necessary. It’s the vital part in this, after all. This is precisely why he needs Jun for this to work. Of course, Sho knows how much he’s capable of on his own, he knows that he can probably execute his plan without Jun, but where would be the fun in that? He needs Jun’s meticulousness, his impeccable taste for the aesthetically pleasing, his incredibly high and borderline reasonable standards.

He needs Jun for this.

Jun cocks his head at him. “You’ll let me choose?” he asks, and Sho just nods without second thought.

“I’ll let you do whatever you want,” he tells Jun, and finds himself returning Jun’s smile. Jun’s love for freedom will always outweigh everything he does and Sho tries to put that first and foremost before he even asks Jun for anything. The more freedom Jun’s given, the higher the chances of him agreeing when presented with a suitable proposition.

Sho stretches his arms, his shoulder joints cracking in the process. He watches Jun’s eyes as they take in the sight of his arms, the muscles underneath thin skin. He watches as Jun takes in his entire form, and notes that he’s capable of holding an audience too, but finds that he will do it for no one else but Jun alone.

He looks around, at Jun’s ceiling, Jun’s set of combined paperback and hardbound novels on the shelf to their right, the TV set in the living room and the stack of magazines Sho himself left lying around the night before, Jun’s delicate kitchenware glinting in the sunlight at the back of the kitchen. He smiles at Jun again, and this time when he says, “Your apartment’s spacious enough, don’t you think?” he expects the answering smirk Jun makes for him.

\--

Sho clicks his tongue when he sees Jun forcefully cupping the jaw of their guest. Sho chose him himself, a man in his early thirties, probably. Sho didn’t ask much. He just asked the man to smile for him and that was pretty much it.

“Don’t do that,” Sho admonishes Jun, who just raises an eyebrow at him.

“It’s hard, you know,” Jun tells him, tapping a finger against the man’s jaw twice, the texture of the leather gloves he’s wearing clearly sending a feeling of discomfort. “Hard. Tough. It’s not going to get spoiled or ruined or even break if I, say,” he pauses before forcefully tilting the man’s face— who gasps— up, “do this, for example.”

Sho knows that Jun is right about that, he just doesn’t understand Jun’s theatrics from time to time. He doesn’t understand why Jun has to examine every single part of the man’s face, the way his lips quake in fear for what’s about to come, the way the gag wrapped around his mouth is gradually getting soiled by combined saliva and tears.

“Please,” the man says, slurred but audible and understandable enough despite the gag. Sho smiles at the plea and he watches as Jun throws his head back in laughter as a response, the glee unmistakable in it. They both watch as the man continues to sob, and it’s when Sho remembers that he has the man’s name, remembers it from the company ID he wore earlier at the train station where Sho walked up to him and claimed that he couldn’t find his way back to Omotesando.  
  
Sho clears his throat. “Please what, Ikuta-san?” and he smiles when the man just gives in to more sobs. Using the name adds to the familiarity, and Sho supposes that’s why the man openly shows how terrified he is. Sho smiles wider when Jun turns to him with interest and even with their distance, Sho can see the obvious, malicious glint in Jun’s eyes.  
  
“Anything you want,” Ikuta promises, slurring through the gag. Jun hasn’t loosened his grip on the man’s jaw yet and Sho can see how that makes every form of speech taxing and very much limited. “I’ll give you anything you want.”  
  
Jun laughs, the shrill sound of unadulterated happiness he makes from time to time whenever something particularly delightful or unbelievable happens. The same laugh he made when he accidentally turned one of Sho’s white shirts pink a few weeks ago.  
  
“He says anything,” Jun says, head turning to look at Sho. “Don’t you just love it when they offer up exactly what we’re looking for, willingly and without question?”  
  
Sho tilts his head in amusement. “I bet he wants something as an exchange,” he says to Jun, who purses his lips in mock thought before turning sharply to Ikuta. The man trembles, from this angle Sho can’t see how Jun’s face looks like, but he’s certain Jun has just given the man a dose of how malicious their intent could be.  
  
“Anything,” Jun repeats, his voice a mockery of Ikuta’s begging from earlier. “You said anything we want, right? No, don’t speak. Just nod,” and Sho watches in fascination as the confident salary man from the train station nods slowly. He watches as Jun nods back in response, and like this, Sho can tell how much Jun’s enjoying this.  
  
“Yes, just like that. Just nod.”  
  
Jun’s enjoying himself like a shark that plays with its food. It’s incredibly thrilling to watch and he finds himself utterly fixated at the sight. He thinks he’ll do this any moment of any day if it means he gets to be an audience on how Jun’s mind works, on what makes Jun tick.  
  
“Point is, what was that again?” Jun gestures to Sho with a snap of fingers and Sho answers dutifully, “Ikuta-san,” earning him Jun’s slight nod of thanks. Sho knows Jun knows the man’s name; he just did that for more flair, to prolong every second of every moment he gets to play with the goods.  
  
“Ikuta-san, we’re already getting what we want. The kind gentleman behind me asked you to smile, didn’t he?” Jun clarifies, gesturing to where Sho is with a tilt of his head.  
  
Ikuta opens his mouth, probably to enunciate an affirmation through the piece of cloth gagging him, but Jun shuts the man’s jaw close with the grip Jun has on him. Sho hears the man’s teeth click and he makes a pointed _tch_ at Jun, who just waves him off with a hand.  
  
“They’re hard enough. Chill the fuck out,” Jun says to his direction before turning back to the salary man. “I told you to just nod if you mean yes. I don’t want to hear your voice, not when your crying is pathetic enough.”  
  
Sho hears the slight annoyance in Jun’s voice, and he knows Ikuta has heard it too. Sho smiles when he sees the helpful salary man from earlier realize that he’s treading on a fine line between possible absolution and damnation.  
  
Not that he has any chance of getting out of this in one piece, Sho thinks, but of course he won’t tell Ikuta that. That will just spoil the surprise and everything Jun does right now. Sho wouldn’t want to ruin whatever Jun’s building here, whatever Jun feels like creating. He did promise to let Jun do whatever he wants, and if this is Jun’s idea of fun, then so be it.

Honestly, Sho understands the fun part. He just doesn’t feel like admitting it. He feels that it’s his job to keep Jun in line, if Jun ever manages to go overboard and possibly spoil what they both wanted. Not that Sho thinks Jun is capable of damaging the vital part, no, it’s just that from time to time, Sho realizes that he has not yet mapped the intricate workings of Jun’s mind despite the time they spent together.  
  
Jun is a puzzle he’s still working on unravelling. It’s a privilege he gets to enjoy each moment he spends with Jun, and an incredibly exciting one at that.  
  
Sho narrows his eyes in interest when Ikuta nods slowly. Sho almost forgot the question when Jun suddenly hooks a finger on the cloth gag to pull it down, before saying, “Very well, won’t you smile for me? The same one you gave to him when you helped the poor, lost gentleman behind me find his way back home, right back here.”  
  
Sho smiles at that, because Jun is such a fucking bastard like this. The sarcasm in Jun’s voice was so rich that Sho wonders if Ikuta knows how terribly screwed he is. How his moment of kindness turned out be the biggest mistake he ever made, the last flawed decision he ever acted upon.  
  
Sho sees the glint of the blade against the lamplight they have over their heads before he even registers that Jun’s holding one. Jun’s quick with knives, always knew how to handle them and how to wield them like they’re extensions of his being. He supposes Jun’s daily job as a cook in Shibuya adds to the skill.  
  
Jun’s pressing the tip of the blade on the salary man’s jugular and Sho sees how the man’s eyes widen in alarm. “If you even think of screaming, Ikuta-san,” Jun says, his voice so deceptively saccharine at the use of the man’s surname, “I’ll make sure that’s the last thing you’ll do.”  
  
Sho meets Ikuta’s eyes across the room, as if the man’s verifying the veracity of Jun’s threat, and Sho just nods. “You’re lucky he warned you,” he tells the salary man. “For a moment there I thought he will just jam it right between your eyes.”  
  
He hears Jun smirk. “And if you think of biting me, this gentleman behind me will make sure you won’t get to show up for work tomorrow morning,” Jun pauses, and Sho hears him hum in mock thought. “Or rather, you get to show up in a far sorrier state than we have originally intended.”  
  
Sho wonders why Jun makes promises like these, promises he will never keep and have no intention of keeping in the first place. But he sees how it works on Ikuta, how the man’s eyes clear up in obvious understanding and Sho knows that Jun has him. Jun has the man underneath his fingertips, ready to do anything he says and anything he wants. Maybe that’s why Jun does it, to get them to do exactly what he wants.  
  
It’s obviously very effective.  
  
He sees Jun tap the knife’s tip against the man’s jugular. “Smile for me like you did for him,” Jun repeats the order with a nod thrown in Sho’s direction, before letting go of the man’s jaw and Ikuta does what he’s told, much to Sho’s amusement and Jun’s obvious delight.  
  
Jun pats the man’s head like he would a dog. “That’s good, really good,” he says, voice laced with something that sounds like genuine praise. Jun then puts the gag back into place before gripping tight on Ikuta’s hair, baring the man’s throat. Sho sees how Jun’s fingers shift on the knife handle, then he sees that Jun’s pressing the tip harder against the man’s skin this time, but not hard enough to draw blood. He sees how the tip dances on Ikuta’s Adam’s apple, how it finally draws a small drop of blood when the salary man swallows a lump in his throat.  
  
“Let me guess,” Jun says, and Sho knows he’s not talking to Ikuta but to him, so Sho waits. “You picked him for the canines,” and Sho smiles.  
  
“You can tell that much, huh?” he says to Jun, his astonishment evident in his voice. Not that he never expected Jun to get it, it’s Jun with the keener eye for the aesthetics, after all. Of the two of them, Jun’s the more critical. It’s just that he never expected himself to pass Jun’s set of concrete standards and he’s very pleased that he did so.  
  
“You’re too obvious sometimes,” Jun says without looking at him, and Sho sees Ikuta’s eyes dart from him back to Jun, an indication that he’s beginning to understand.  
  
Sho just nods. “Yes, Ikuta-san,” he tells the man as genially as he can manage, the kind of voice he uses when he welcomes clients from foreign countries to their company’s conference room. “That’s all we want,” he nods again, slower this time, and he watches the man’s throat bob. Sho stands up from where he’s sitting before putting the gloves on, its elastic material making a loud sound when it comes into contact with his skin. He makes his way to the pair because he knows it won’t be long now.  
  
“That,” Jun says before moving the blade so its tip lies right under Ikuta’s right eye, “along with everything else.”  
  
Whatever protests the salary man who offered to help Sho find the right platform in a quiet Thursday night ever thought of making instantly died the moment Jun lets go of the man’s hair and places both of his hands on the sides of Ikuta’s head, before twisting the neck just right. Sho just tilts his head as Ikuta falls to the floor, an expression of shock still etched on his face.  
  
“That was quick,” he tells Jun who doesn’t even blink.  
  
“His mewling was becoming tiresome,” Jun says with a look, as if he’s challenging Sho to say more or to contradict him. “You did hear how he sobbed, didn’t you? How he begged?”  
  
Sho just purses his lips at Jun. “Well, you played with him long enough.”  
  
Jun frowns at that comment. “Still, he wasn’t fun enough. But yes, he does have what you want,” Jun says before moving to the side, fingers fiddling with the knife. “Get to work then.”  
  
Sho does as he’s told, the forceps and dental elevators already in hand. He thinks there’s absolutely no one who can resist any of the orders Jun makes. It’s what makes him the top chef, what put him in such a position that warrants a lot of acknowledgement and respect.  
  
Of course Jun is an excellent cook, but skills alone won’t get you that far. The attitude is a necessity, and that’s something Jun has in abundance. He has the ability to command people, to terrify them to such an extent that they will do nothing but obey, something he reminded Sho of not too long ago.  
  
It makes him the kind of accomplice Sho needs, so he lets Jun have his fun. He lets Jun play with their handpicked guest for a while, lets Jun decide how to end it, before he steps up and does what he has to do.  
  
“He’s a representative, isn’t he?” he hears Jun ask from somewhere beside him. From the corner of Sho’s eye he can see how the silver of the blade Jun’s playing with glints in the living room lights.  
  
Sho smiles at how perceptive Jun can be. He didn’t tell Jun about that piece of information because Jun didn’t bother to ask. Now he understands why Jun didn’t bother at all.  
  
“Sales,” he answers, and hears Jun hum.  
  
“Well, you do need a stunning smile for that.”  
  
Sho didn’t know much about Ikuta, only that he worked in an electronics company, selling state-of-the-art appliances somewhere in Akasaka. Everything else he knows about the man came from the company ID he was wearing earlier, before Sho lured him into Jun’s apartment and before Sho knocked him out. Though, now that Sho thinks on it, he can remember Ikuta saying about proposing to someone in the short time they shared a train car together.

“He was going to propose to someone, I think,” he tells Jun, and he has no idea why he wants Jun to know that. He isn’t feeling sorry, no, not when Ikuta is the first step, the very important one. He just feels like he has to strike a conversation with Jun as he works, something to keep Jun’s impatience at bay.  
  
Jun snorts. “I’ll make it special, then,” he says, clearly amused and already plotting. “I did make it quick, on the account that you didn’t let me choose, so I’m thinking I should make it special as a form of compensation.”  
  
Sho laughs at that, his hands shaking a little as he uses the elevator to slowly separate Ikuta’s canine from the ligament. “I did promise you can do whatever you want,” he says to Jun who answers, “That you did.”  
  
Sho uses the forceps to grasp the man’s canine, paying no mind to the continuous oozing of blood down to the sheets of plastic Jun placed around his living room. The scent of iron fills his senses, and he watches how black blood appears to be given the lack of proper light. He gets most of the blood on his gloved hands and he hears Jun click his tongue at the sight.  
  
“Don’t you even think of touching any of my furniture with those hands,” Jun warns, and Sho raises an eyebrow at him.  
  
Jun shoots him a look. “There’s a reason I put pieces of fucking plastic everywhere, Sakurai,” and the way he says Sho’s name should be enough to make the hairs on the back of his head stand had he been anyone.  
  
But Sho’s not just anyone so he just looks at Jun, making his unamusement evident. He knows Jun will hand this to him later, because Jun doesn’t like the idea of being crossed, but Sho knows at the same time that Jun likes it when someone challenges him head-on, likes the fact that he can use it to dole out punishment later.  
  
Frankly, it’s one of those things about Jun that excites Sho.  
  
“And if I touch you with these hands instead?” Sho asks, ensuring that his voice sounds unimpressed and bored when he’s feeling exactly the opposite. He watches as Jun’s eyes narrow in understanding, how the fierce glint in his eyes give rise to something more possessive, something far less merciful than the way Jun treated Ikuta earlier.

Sho grins, knowing that he’s got Jun. He raises the forceps high enough for Jun to see, the canine trapped between the beaks of the tool. “Your turn,” he tells Jun, who just flips the knife with such skill that Sho wonders if Jun gets to do that in the kitchen as well when he shows up for work every morning.  
  
Jun crawls to where he is and Sho watches as Jun takes the forceps from him, not minding if Ikuta’s blood gets on the leather wrapped around his hands, and raises the tool against the light. “One down,” Jun says before smiling at Sho.  
  
“Thirty-one to go,” Sho finishes for him, before he’s stretching out a hand to cup Jun’s jaw for a kiss. He likes Jun like this, when Jun has nothing but appreciation for his efforts, for his antics. He likes it when Jun responds to him with equal enthusiasm, loves how Jun puts the forceps in the same hand that’s holding the knife to cup the back of Sho’s neck to pull him closer.  
  
Sho knows that he’s got Ikuta’s blood all over Jun’s face, and when they part for air he knows that Jun has never looked more alluring. He watches as Jun darts a tongue out to lick the sides of his mouth where Sho got some of the blood on, and feels his own blood travel south at the sight.  
  
Jun puts some distance between them before handing Sho the forceps back. “Don’t you think we have enough time for that later, Sho-san?” he asks, the honorific sounding so respectful that Sho feels like it’s one of his junior telemarketers who’s currently speaking to him.  
  
He gives in because this is Jun and he finds that it’s practically impossible to refuse Jun like this. It’s always been a feat whenever Sho manages to say something contradictory to Jun’s statements, because that rarely ever happens. Jun rarely gets challenged, which is why Sho knows how much Jun inherently likes it whenever someone does.

And Sho thinks it’s just his job to make sure that that person gets to be him from time to time, if not all the time.  
  
“Fine,” he tells Jun, moving away to go to the kitchen sink. “Later.”  
  
Sho removes the surgical gloves with little finesse, running them against hot water before disposing them in the nearby trash bin. He hears Jun shift around the living room, the plastic sheets creasing underneath him and Ikuta’s body, the sounds making Jun’s movements easier to map even without looking.  
  
Sho washes the elevators next, before carefully letting water run on the forceps. He shifts his grip on the handle and catches the tooth in his other palm. He smiles at the sight of it before placing it inside the small vial Jun left on top of the kitchen counter.  
  
He sees Jun lift his head when the tooth clinks against the bottom of the vial. “Left of the shelf,” is all Jun says before he’s ducking his head again and concentrating on whatever it is he feels like doing on Ikuta’s body. Sho doesn’t see the need to know for now; he’ll see it later anyway.

Besides, if he tries to peek now, Jun will probably chuck a knife at him (he’s terribly skilled with the damn things and Sho thinks it’ll take only a casual flick of the wrist on Jun’s part and then the knife is probably stuck somewhere in Sho’s body) and tell him that “It’s not ready yet, go away,” in the same voice he uses when Sho tries to find out what’s for dinner by peering over Jun’s shoulder as Jun cooks.  
  
He reaches for a white plastic container in the shelf Jun indicated and he smiles when he reads the label. Jun’s well-prepared as always. Sho now knows he made the right decision to leave the minor details in Jun’s hands. Jun’s quick thinking and precision are what will make sure they don’t slip up and have everything covered.  
  
He fills the vial with formalin, just enough to soak the tooth inside and preserve it.  
  
Jun seems to notice what he’s doing, because suddenly he says, “What’s next, you’re going to put them right beside those jars of wisdom teeth you keep at the top of your CD collection?” his smirk obvious in the tone he uses.

Sho laughs at that. “I’m glad you remember that, really,” he says, watching Jun’s back as he shuffles around Ikuta’s prone form, the bulk of Jun’s body effectively hiding whatever it is he’s doing from Sho’s sight.  
  
“I will never understand your part-time obsession with the oral cavity,” Jun says to him conversationally.  
  
Sho puts a stopper in the vial before proceeding to wipe his tools with a dish cloth. “Do I need a reason?” he asks Jun.  
  
Jun turns to look at him, his eyes completely devoid of their brown color due to the dim lighting. “No,” Jun tells him, expression unreadable. The light overhead casts shadows on his face, highlighting his already distinct facial features. Sho’s eyes follow the way the shadows move across Jun’s face when Jun cocks his head at him. “And frankly, I’m not interested should you have one.”

Sho flashes Jun a small quirk of the lips. This is one of the many reasons why he finds Jun so compelling. Jun doesn’t ask Sho for his motives. He doesn’t pry, he lets Sho do whatever he wants as long as it doesn’t cross with his personal interests, most of which Sho isn’t privy to as well. It’s the kind of compromise they have, that they both get what they want out of this and no one asks anyone too many questions.

Jun tells him they should save that for that time the police catches up to them. Sho doesn’t know for sure if Jun said that jokingly or not, but he undoubtedly found himself agreeing. It doesn’t take Jun much to get a yes from him, he realizes.  
  
Sho places the vial on top of Jun’s kitchen counter, before he’s sitting on the counter himself, his feet dangling and ankles occasionally hitting smooth wooden surface. He watches as Jun moves from one side of Ikuta’s body to the other side, an expression of utmost concentration in Jun’s eyes.

Sho thinks he can watch Jun work like this and he will want nothing else. He thinks that right now he is seeing the same focus Jun shows when he’s in the restaurant kitchen, the fierce dedication and passion Jun has in abundance with the way Jun’s flicking the blade with such precision and grace.  
  
Jun’s not just skilled with a knife, Sho realizes. He’s gifted at it.

After a while, Jun leans back a little, as if appraising his work. Sho sees him nodding, probably deeming it to be acceptable for his personal standards. Jun then gestures for him to come closer with the same hand that’s holding the knife, and Sho moves from his place in Jun’s kitchen without another word.  
  
“What do you think?” Jun asks him when Sho crouches on the other side of Ikuta’s body.  
  
Sho takes a breath at the sight, his lips already forming a smile. Jun made very small but very clean cuts all over Ikuta’s face, small straight lines that intersect into a web of intricate design. With the salary man’s blood coloring each cut, Sho sees the pattern Jun made.  
  
“He was going to propose, wasn’t he?” Jun asks him and Sho just nods. “I did say I’ll make it special.”

On Ikuta’s face is a marquise, a popular diamond cut. Sho marvels on how Jun managed not to hit Ikuta’s eyes, nose, and mouth as he made each and every gash. He sees how Jun’s artistry seeps through the design despite its simplicity, how the overall look is so very Jun because of the way each line appears to have been done carefully, cleanly, and yet each cut seems to have been done without hesitation.  
  
"It's art, Sho," Jun says, flipping the knife in his hand before putting the flat part of the blade stained with blood against his lips and tapping twice. "Art."  
  
Sho finds himself nodding at that, because what else could it be? What else other than art itself, the kind that Jun appreciates all the time and shapes with such care, such passion? This is Jun’s first piece, the first addition to the oeuvre he clearly intends to build with Sho and it looks nothing but magnificent in Sho’s eyes.  
  
Jun’s looking at him expectantly and Sho tilts his head. “That’s your signature right there, all over him,” he tells Jun who hums noncommittally before grabbing one of Sho’s wrists and shifting his grip to reveal Sho’s palm.  
  
Jun then wipes the flat surfaces of the knife on Sho’s outstretched hand, the redness of Ikuta’s blood smearing all over his palm lines and making rivulets of crimson against his skin, tiny red patterns which glisten under the living room light.

“No,” Jun tells him, his eyes fixed on Sho’s now red palm lines, “that’s our signature right there,” and Sho smiles in agreement.

\--

He lets Jun pick their next one. Ikuta-san from the Sakura Electronics in Akasaka made it to the front page a little over two weeks ago, having been found in his salary man clothes sitting in one of the benches at the memorial park, missing a tooth and his face sporting a design that could only be the work of a madman with very skilled hands, as the news reports put it.  
  
It turns out that Sho was right about the salary man’s intention to propose to someone, because when Jun opens the TV that very morning as they’re having breakfast, they see Ikuta’s girlfriend begging for justice in almost every news channel there is.  
  
“It’s no wonder he plans to marry her,” Jun says as he flips through every channel, different angles of the woman’s face—Sho reads her name as Yoshitaka, a woman in her twenties, as it gets displayed in different manners in every news channel Jun switches to— gets plastered on the screen.  
  
“Listen, Sho. She sounds just like him,” Jun says as he continuously flips through the channels. “Exactly like the way he begged that night, don’t you think?”  
  
Sho takes his eyes off Yoshitaka’s weeping form and grins at Jun. “I think he was more in control than her, though.”  
  
Jun raises an eyebrow at him, his fork clinking against his plate. “Shall I pick her next, then? For us to find out for ourselves? It’s my turn now, isn’t it?” he asks, and Sho eyes Jun with curiosity. The lack of remorse is something they’re clearly similar at, but the way Jun holds this conversation shows just how much he truly enjoyed doing what he did to Ikuta.  
  
Sho thinks that deep inside, underneath Jun’s annoyance for Yoshitaka’s caterwauling in front of the media is the fact that he revels at the effects they wrought together. Sho did see the way Jun stared appreciatively at the morning paper, at the fact that they both made the front page and people have no idea that there are two people behind the piece, behind Ikuta-san sitting innocuously at a memorial park for everyone to see.  
  
It was a look of pride that was gracing Jun’s features as he scanned the paper, the look of a master staring at the fruits of his labor. Sho wants to keep that look for himself, wants to be reminded that that was how Jun looked like the very moment they did it.  
  
“You think that in her state right now she’ll still smile for you?” Sho asks back, because he seriously doubts they can get Yoshitaka to smile for them. It’s the important process in these selections and he knows that Jun’s more than aware of that, and that Jun is just teasing him as always.  
  
Jun grins, obviously aware now that Sho caught on to the act. “Don’t you think she’ll spare a smile for the guy who gave her a diamond?” Jun asks in a tone full of seriousness and Sho almost howls in laughter at that, raising his mug of coffee towards Jun in mock toast.  
  
Point taken, Sho thinks, and they spend the rest of that breakfast smiling at each other, Jun finally settling for a Totoro rerun and humming Tonari no Totoro under his breath as the theme plays, a mischievous glint in his eyes.  
  
It is Saturday when Sho enters Jun’s apartment and finds it empty and dark, but there are sheets of plastic spread across the living room floor and some covering Jun’s furniture that the sight of it all makes Sho grin. Jun’s neighbor Oguri is having a boisterous party next door, his sound system loud enough to rattle the walls of Jun’s apartment. Sho knows that on any other day Jun won’t be pleased about that, but this kind of noise is perhaps just what they need for tonight.  
  
He walks towards Jun’s wine rack and picks Château Les Ormes de Pez, 1995, before grabbing a wine glass from the nearby shelf and pouring himself one. He thinks Jun will definitely say something about that, considering that Sho started without him, but Sho likes to tempt fate from time to time and who knows, maybe his daring move will earn him something else other than Jun’s ire.  
  
He’s halfway into his glass, remnants of blackcurrant flavor in his tongue when the door opens. Sho did not open any of the lights except for the ones in the living room, and he remains where he is, leaning against Jun’s kitchen counter while quietly savoring fermented grape juice.  
  
He hears Jun’s cheery voice of, “Please come in. I was serious about the offer of having you spend the night, after all,” and Sho sees Jun stepping aside to usher a woman in. Not Ikuta’s supposed fiancée, no, but someone of probably similar standing, judging from the salary woman clothes she’s wearing. The woman toes off her high heels at the genkan, placing them probably right beside Sho’s sneakers.  
  
The woman looks at Jun in question before asking, “Is someone here too?” and Sho hides his smile behind the wine glass. He takes a careful sip, running his tongue on his lips to better savor the almost tangy taste. Sharp, Sho thinks. Not as unsuspecting as poor Ikuta-san from two weeks ago, but obviously not sharp enough because she’s here despite that.  
  
He sees Jun glance at the pair of sneakers before flashing the woman his most attractive smile. “Yes, Inoue-san, someone’s here too,” Jun says carefully, his voice dropping a pitch. Sho hears Inoue make a nervous giggle, because Jun’s stepping closer to her. Inoue takes a step back till her shoulder blades are hitting the wall, and that’s when she says, “Jun-kun?” in a small voice, just as Jun is resting his arm right beside her head.  
  
Jun-kun. Sho repeats the way the woman called Jun in his head, repeats it until he’s wondering just how far did Jun go to earn this woman’s trust.  Sho is assuming Jun went far enough, because while Inoue’s looking panicked, she doesn’t push Jun away, just keeps her palms flat against the wall.  
  
Sho watches as Jun’s fingers dance lightly on Inoue’s jaw, tracing featherlight patterns with his knuckles here and there, making the woman laugh nervously. He takes another sip from the wine glass, his eyes never leaving the pair who still hasn’t left the genkan. He’s aware that Jun knows that he’s looking, that he’s watching everything like a hawk, which is precisely why Jun leans forward to say against Inoue’s ear, “Smile for me again, Inoue-san.”  
  
Jun says it in a voice that leaves no room for protest. However, instead of granting Jun’s request immediately, Sho sees Inoue’s eyes narrow before she’s lifting her chin up and saying, “Call me Mao-chan,” and then, there, she’s smiling at Jun.  
  
Jun grins back and then he’s gripping Inoue’s chin to turn her face towards Sho. “She likes Totoro, Sho-san,” Jun says, speaking to him for the first time since he arrived with someone in tow, while his eyes remain on Inoue’s face. “She told me in the taxi earlier. Even has him for her phone strap.”  
  
Sho watches how Inoue’s expression shifts, how her eyes squint in the darkness to make out his form in the kitchen. Sho raises his wine glass in a form of acknowledgement when the woman’s eyes finally meet his own.  
  
“Mao-chan,” Sho says, drawling out every syllable of her name, and before she can even respond to him, she falls to the floor because Jun’s finally knocking her out with a blow to the back of her neck.  
  
Jun cracks his neck joints and takes a deep breath before looking at Sho. “How dare you start without me,” he accuses, eyes on the wine bottle on the counter and Sho just shoots a pointed look at Inoue’s prone form, her long black hair covering most of her face from Sho’s sight.  
  
“Got dumped on a supposed anniversary date,” Jun explains before heaving the woman’s body on his shoulders without much effort. “Got dumped, was crying beside the nearby street sign a few blocks from the restaurant, and that’s all it took.”  
  
Sho raises both of his eyebrows. “That easy to sympathize with, huh?”  
  
He sees Jun grin at him. “I just had to say that it wasn’t safe for her to be out and about at this time of the night. I even offered to pay for her taxi fare.”  
  
Sho purses his lips. Jun’s obviously making him work for the details by not divulging too much, just whatever it is he feels like telling Sho unless Sho asks for more. He sighs.  
  
“And yet she’s here,” he says as Jun unceremoniously drops Inoue’s body right in the middle of the living room, at the center of all the plastic sheets Jun carefully placed around.  
  
“She told me she didn’t want to go home because her place reminds her of him,” Jun explains as he walks towards one of the shelves, the same one housing his paperback collections, fumbling around the back of different classical and contemporary editions till he’s fishing out a bundle of cable ties and a piece of cloth.  
  
“Pretty convenient for you, then,” Sho says before finishing his wine in one gulp and wiping his mouth with his hand. He watches as Jun maneuvers Inoue’s body to wrap a piece of cable tie around her wrists and another one around her ankles. He watches as Jun strokes the woman’s right cheekbone in a deceptively sweet and caring manner before Jun’s forcing her mouth open to shove a rolled up piece of cloth inside.  
  
Sho places the wine glass on top of the kitchen counter before he makes his way to stand beside Jun, who’s tilting his head to examine his handiwork. Sho puts an arm around Jun’s shoulders and plants a kiss on Jun’s cheek. “She’s perfect,” he says to Jun, who nudges him with a shoulder.  
  
“Of course she is. I picked her myself.”  
  
Sho hides a smile against Jun’s hair, catching a whiff of various Italian seasonings, the basil a little predominant as he inhaled Jun’s scent. Jun worked hard in the kitchen today. “Shall I wake her up, then? Or will you do it yourself?” he asks Jun, one his hands already travelling to Jun’s collar.  
  
Jun turns to him with a teasing smile on his face. “You didn’t like my artistic touch at the genkan earlier?”  
  
Sho keeps his nose buried in Jun’s hair, taking his next breath against Jun’s scalp. “Not very much, no,” he admits, and Jun turns to him fully before wrapping his arms around Sho’s neck. Sho’s hands move to Jun’s hips where one of his thumbs stroke at the tiny patch of skin exposed when Jun’s shirt hikes up a little.  
  
Jun plants a series of short kisses around his lips. Sho almost considered it as a form of apology, but he remembers that Jun was never the apologetic type. If anything, Jun has always been the selfish one, the greedy one out of the two of them, and this is just Jun showing that Sho’s his and no one else’s.  
  
Not that Sho has any complains about that, especially after the way Jun stroked Inoue’s cheek earlier.  
  
He keeps up with Jun, leaving chaste kisses around Jun’s mouth, and their lips meet occasionally but neither of them tries to deepen the kiss and take it further. They keep at it, just teasing one another and if anyone lingers a little too long, neither comments on it.  
  
Jun pauses against his jaw when they both hear Inoue groan from her place in the middle of Jun’s living room, and it’s only then that Sho remembers they weren’t exactly alone. He gives Jun one last peck before saying, “I’ll get us some gloves, how’s that?” and Jun’s nodding, letting him go to crouch down in front of Inoue.  
  
Sho’s opening one of Jun’s kitchen’s drawers to retrieve pairs of gloves when he hears Jun’s, “So nice of you to join us, Mao-chan.” The way Jun says Inoue’s name sounds like Inoue’s just a neighbor or a distant cousin who happened to stop by in her free time. It sounds so affectionate and so fond that it’s almost believable, and Sho finds himself admiring Jun for it.  
  
He makes his way back to the living room, suddenly hearing Inoue’s soft cries despite the gag. He hands Jun a pair of gloves and settles himself in one of Jun’s plush cushions. Sho’s more than content to watch for now, to watch how Jun will once again offer false hope and mix cruelty with uncharacteristic kindness, just to lull their latest prey to a false sense of hope. Jun’s ruthless like that.  
  
“Shh,” he hears Jun say as Jun puts the gloves on. Soon, Jun is stroking Inoue’s tear-streaked cheekbone with tenderness, and Sho grins at the sight. He gives in to laughter when Jun proceeds to sing Tonari no Totoro in an obvious attempt to placate the crying Inoue, at the same time wiping the tears off her face with his thumbs.  
  
“You’re such an asshole,” he tells Jun who just smiles wider and sings a little louder, exaggerating a few lines here and there. Jun’s particularly vicious tonight because just before he breaks into the second chorus he’s suddenly gripping Inoue’s face tightly, making her look at him.  
  
Sho sees how the woman never stops crying, how her tears continuously flow across her cheeks down to her chin, how they leave dark spots on her gray skirt. He watches how she gives in to tears, how her confidence from earlier was absolutely shattered by Jun’s casual use of her preferred name.  
  
“Mao-chan,” Jun says, his voice like honey, “do you know why you’re here?” and Sho watches carefully how the woman shakes hear head despite Jun’s hand not letting go of her face. She keeps on shaking her head as she continues crying, and Sho hears Jun click his tongue before Jun is putting his other hand behind her neck to completely restrict any form of movement.  
  
At the rate this is going, Sho thinks it’s only a matter of time before Jun breaks her neck.  
  
“Jun,” he says softly, his voice a little admonishing, knowing that it’s enough to get Jun’s attention, enough to make Jun remember that it’s not yet time for that. Later perhaps, when Jun had his fun and had enough. Sometimes Jun’s impatience gets ahead of him that it makes him cut to the chase far quicker than what Jun himself initially intended. Sho knows how detailed and specific Jun’s idea of fun is, and he knows how much Jun will hate it if he doesn’t get to do what he planned to do just because of a sudden impulsive decision, so Sho sees to it that he intervenes from time to time.  
  
He calls it damage control.  
  
Jun takes a deep breath with eyes closed. Sho can see how he tries to regain control of the situation, how he tries to rein in the temper by mentally counting.  
  
The moment Jun opens his eyes again, he looks at Inoue with so much fondness and adoration that Sho knows Jun’s back in his element. The woman doesn’t stop crying, but the little sobs escaping from her lessened to a considerable degree compared to earlier.  
  
Not that she can sob to her heart’s content, Sho thinks. The gag prevents her from doing that, but it never fails to amaze him how people always seem to find a way whenever restriction is applied. Sho notes that Inoue’s fingers don’t stop fiddling with one end of the cable tie, obviously in an attempt to loosen the damn things.  
  
Sho knows that if Jun so much loosens his grip on her, if Jun turns around and lets her go for just a moment, she will make a break for the door even if she has to crawl. He knows it just by looking at her, because that’s precisely why Jun picked her, that’s exactly what makes her different from Ikuta-san from Akasaka.  
  
Inoue knows she’s not getting out of this in one piece. She sees through Jun’s deception, sees that every single gentle caress Jun does on her face is nothing but an act to placate her, to make her say yes willingly before Jun delivers the final blow.  
  
Sho clears his throat to get Jun’s attention. “You do know that she knows, don’t you?” he asks just to confirm. Jun’s still looking at Inoue as if she’s his long-lost sister or some acquaintance he has a fondness for, as if she still has a shot at this and Jun will just give it to her provided she asks for it.  
  
“I do,” Jun answers, licking his lips. “I told you, I picked her myself. Of course I know.”  
  
Then Jun’s letting her go and moving away from her, giving her an opening, a shot at a possible escape. Sho’s eyes widen at the obvious trap and Jun just laughs maniacally when the woman makes a move towards the door, her body writhing against the plastic sheets, the noise the plastic creases coming contact with one another combined with her desperate sobs so loud and pitiful to Sho’s ears.  
  
To her credit, Inoue makes it past one of Jun’s couches before Sho’s standing up and shoving a hand under Jun’s TV set, then he’s pulling the trigger and shooting her in the leg. She makes a muffled howl of frustration and pain before collapsing back to the floor, blood trickling from the wound Sho just put on her thigh.  
  
Jun shoots him an annoyed look, clicking his tongue. “If any of the bullets in that thing goes through any of my furniture or worse, my floor,” Jun says as he whips out the knife he has in his pocket, “you’re going to be the third one Sho-san, I promise you that.”  
  
Sho just stares back, the both of them ignoring Inoue’s muffled cries for help, as well as the way she’s still trying to make a move for Jun’s apartment door. “She’s getting away, Matsumoto-san,” he tells Jun, stressing out Jun’s surname and the honorific attached to it.  
  
“No she’s not,” is all Jun says before he’s standing up and grabbing the woman’s long hair to pull her head back, exposing her pale throat. Jun’s lips hover against her ear and Sho hears how Jun enunciates every syllable when he says, “Mao-chan,” like a parent would to a petulant child.  
  
“You’re lucky my neighbor just passed his entrance exams to medical school and feels like letting the entire neighborhood know,” Jun tells her, his hand still fisted on her hair. The music from Oguri’s place is loud enough to mask the sound of gunshot from earlier, and Sho doesn’t even have to strain his ears to hear Jun’s neighbor’s visitors cheering out loud.  
  
Jun places the knife under Inoue’s throat before turning back to Sho. “You think Shun can patch up a gunshot wound despite not having entered med school yet?” Jun asks conversationally, and Sho just shrugs his shoulders.  
  
“Who knows? And didn’t he invite you? If you two are familiar enough with one another to go on a first name basis?” he shoots back, and this time Sho didn’t bother to mask any hint of jealousy in his voice.  
  
Jun drags the knife lightly against Inoue’s neck and Sho doesn’t even have to come closer to know that she’s trembling out of combined fear and pain. Blood steadily oozes out from her thigh, crimson and bright against the transparent plastic sheets Jun placed around them, looking stark against Jun’s polished floor.  
  
“He did but I already said I have a long shift tomorrow and will be extremely busy tonight,” Jun answers with a glance thrown in Sho’s direction.  
  
Sho raises an eyebrow. “He didn’t see you, did he? You and Inoue-san here?”  
  
Jun scoffs and Sho knows without seeing that Jun’s rolling his eyes. “Calm the fuck down. Nobody saw us come up here. I didn’t even let the fucking driver drop us off here directly, did I, Mao-chan?”  
  
Sho sees Inoue nod despite Jun’s grip on her hair. Suddenly, Jun stands up and pulls her by her long locks, dragging her back to where she was before, back in the center of Jun’s living room. He sees how Inoue tears up from the pain from her leg and from the way Jun’s pulling at her hair without mercy, how she makes a pitiful moan at the back of her throat. It’s almost enough to make Sho feel something.  
  
Almost.  
  
Sho fiddles with the .357 in his hand, shifting it from palm to palm. He waits until Jun lets Inoue go to stand beside him, until Inoue herself no longer feels like attempting to escape before clearing his throat.  
  
“Even Ikuta-san knew better than to try to run, Mao-chan,” he tells the woman and watches in delight as her eyes widen in understanding. Sho wasn’t wrong about her cleverness, then. She’s aware enough to know who Ikuta was.  
  
Well, judging from the extensive news coverage the salary man got a few weeks ago, Sho has no doubt everyone pretty much knows Ikuta’s name by now. He was the iconic beginning after all, the one Jun so graciously bequeathed a diamond to just to make the situation extra-special.  
  
Jun’s chuckling under his breath. “Don’t worry Mao-chan,” he says, knife twisting in his hand. “I already know what to do with your pretty face,” and Inoue sobs uncontrollably at that, her head shaking in what appears to be fierce denial that this is all real, that this is happening to her.  
  
Sho can’t blame her for that, so he just whistles the Totoro theme song, making the woman cry harder and Jun laugh louder beside him. Jun buries his face in Sho’s shoulder, his body quaking with obvious mirth, and Sho just continues whistling.  
  
“You’re a fucking asshole too, you know that?” Jun tells him, and Sho just turns his head to kiss the corner of Jun’s smiling mouth.  
  
“Won’t you remove the gag once and for all?” Sho asks, and Jun snorts.  
  
“She’ll scream. Even with Shun’s bass trying to drill a hole through my walls, she’ll still scream,” Jun says before moving closer to Inoue and crouching down in front of her. Inoue tries to move away from him, despite the plastic sheets under her hindering her from making precise movements. She moves away from Jun until her back hits one of Jun’s shelves, the same one containing Jun’s paperback titles and cable ties.  
  
“Worse,” Jun says, scooting over and pointing the tip of the knife in between Inoue’s eyes, “she’ll bite me, and that’ll be some fucking mess to clean up.”  
  
Jun narrows his eyes as Inoue desperately shakes her head. Jun obviously doesn’t understand what she means by it, because suddenly he’s saying, “Why do you think she keeps on doing that, Sho-san? Why do you think she keeps saying no?”  
  
Sho grins and indulges Jun. It won’t be long now, anyway. “’Not the knife’, maybe?” he suggests, making sure his voice sounds thoughtful. “Or maybe, ‘please don’t’?”  
  
Jun lets out a high-pitched giggle at that, causing Inoue to sob harder. The gag is there long enough to make her jaw ache and uncomfortable, and Sho sees how much she strains herself in an attempt to convey something to them, probably to make them change their mind.  
  
“You’re the one who wanted to come here, Mao-chan,” Jun reminds her one last time before covering half of her face with his hand, effectively cutting off her air. Sho watches with disinterest as Inoue’s eyes widen, as she tries to struggle and remove Jun’s hand by desperately moving her face side to side, how her body thrashes wildly, forming even more creases on the plastic sheets. He watches how Jun’s strength overpowers her in the end, how her body quakes for one last time before she’s sagging to the floor, her eyes still wide in shock, tears still hanging on to her eyelashes.  
  
Jun waits for a few seconds before he removes his hand from her face, letting her head drop unceremoniously to the floor with a dull thud. He cracks his neck joints, similar to what he did earlier in the genkan after he knocked Inoue out. Sho’s eyes follow the long line of Jun’s neck, a bead of sweat traveling from his jawline before making its way down, past Jun’s Adam’s apple, before disappearing underneath the shirt he’s wearing.  
  
Sho thinks that Jun looks most attractive the moment after he just killed someone with his bare hands.  
  
That’s the thing about Jun in this set up. Jun never uses the knife to end things, no, because he likes to taunt them, to goad them to give in to a miniscule sense of hope because that’s the bitterest reality of all: to finally realize that there was really no hope in the first place. Jun is practically ruthless and entirely unrepentant. He doesn’t hesitate, though he does get a bit dramatic from time to time in his attempts to play with the food on his plate.  
  
Sho knows why Jun favors the knife. He has a preference over the thing not just because he’s the top chef, but because things get drawn out with the knife, things get more exciting with it. Sho favors the .357 in his hand because he knows it gets the job done quickly, provided you don’t miss. He likes it because it gets its point across from the very moment you pull it out and point it at someone.  
  
Jun doesn’t like that.  
  
Jun likes to savor the kill. He likes to make their victims work for it, likes to see them begging and writhing and practically sobbing, likes to see them under his mercy. This is only their second victim together and Sho understands exactly why Jun picked Inoue.  
  
He picked her because through her, Jun got to experience something new again, got to apply the same rules and yet achieve an outcome entirely different from the one they got from Ikuta. Sure, Inoue had the perfect incisors (it will take Sho a while to decide if he’s getting her lateral or her central one), but it was the fight in her that made Jun deem her as the fitting addition to their still-growing collection.  
  
Sho recalls how she immediately tried to bolt for the door despite her wrists and ankles tied up. Ikuta didn’t do that. Ikuta, for his part, attempted to reason with them, tried to make a hit at either one of their consciences despite their mutual display of having no ounce nor any lick of it left.  
  
Inoue knew that she had no chance against their pity, so she took a shot despite knowing it was a trap. Sho supposes it was a one-time thing for her, a do or die moment. It earned her a bullet in the thigh, but Sho thinks that at least, she could tell herself that she tried, that she didn’t completely give up.  
  
He looks at Jun who’s eyeing him in equal measure. “She knew,” is all he says, and Jun nods in understanding. Sho knows he doesn’t need to clarify, because Jun obviously gets it, Jun obviously knows what he’s talking about. Jun’s really sharp like that, and that’s what makes him a reliable accomplice.  
  
“From the very moment she woke up after I hit her at the nape, in fact,” Jun clarifies, shooting a glance on Inoue’s now lifeless form on the living room floor.  
  
Jun tilts his head at the sight, but what’s thinking of is something Sho doesn’t know. “I’m going to shower,” is what Jun says when he looks at Sho again. “I have her perfume all over me. When I come back I hope you’re done with what you’re supposed to do.”  
  
Sho’s lips quirk at that, because Jun sounds exactly like his boss at the company. He supposes this is the same tone Jun uses when he demands for the next batch of orders in the restaurant. He finds himself nodding, and Jun leaves for the shower without another word.  
  
Sho gets to work, returning the gun to its original hiding place before grabbing the tools he kept in one of Jun’s kitchen drawers. He finally decided on her lateral incisor, remembering that he took a canine from Ikuta and it only makes sense that he gets one from her that’ll be adjacent to what he already has.  
  
He makes quick work, removing the already soiled cloth gag and tossing it aside, maneuvering Inoue’s head just so he can get easier access to what he wants. Her lifeless eyes stare back at him, and Sho feels like there’s an audience watching him perform, so he makes sure he’s extra careful as he extracts her tooth.  
  
The scent of her blood fills his nostrils, the iron tang of it so distinct that it’s beginning to flood the apartment. The blood from her thigh starts to cake against the plastic sheets, the color turning to a darker shade of maroon against the light. Next door, Jun’s neighbor and his visitors are getting livelier as the night grows later, and Sho hears a crack of a piñata broken in half somewhere, leading to more screaming and cheering and louder music.  
  
Jun’s not going to like that, he thinks. Jun’s definitely going to say something about the noise once he comes out of the shower.  
  
He pulls the incisor using the forceps and examines it under the light. It is perfect, it’s as perfect as he originally deemed it to be the moment Jun made Inoue look at him. He taps Inoue’s cheek gratefully, mouthing thanks before standing up and making his way to Jun’s sink to wash his hands and store the newly acquired tooth in a vial.  
  
Jun steps out of the shower with only a towel wrapped around his form and Sho almost rolls his eyes at the sight. Almost, but the water droplets from Jun’s hair proceed to travel down the expanse of his muscular back, down his spine, before stopping when they finally reach the towel. Sho clears his throat at Jun, who turns to him and blinks innocently.  
  
“I did as you asked,” Sho says, his eyes taking in Jun’s half-naked and mostly wet form hungrily.  
  
Jun hums. “As you should,” is all Sho hears him say before he’s grabbing the knife he placed on top of the kitchen counter, just beside Sho’s used wine glass. “Ever think of washing that?” Jun asks him, gesturing to the glass with the knife.  
  
Sho cocks his head. “What, you won’t share a drink with me?”  
  
Jun turns his back to Sho, already making his way to the living room. Sho almost grabs the wine glass to do what Jun suggested when he hears Jun’s, “Later, perhaps.”  
  
Sho smiles at that, turning the running faucet off. He retrieves a vial from one of Jun’s cabinets, washes it in hot water before wiping it with a cloth. He puts Inoue’s incisor inside before filling the vial with formalin and stoppering it tight. When he looks up, Jun’s already crouching before Inoue’s body, still covered with only a piece of towel. From Sho’s position he gets a generous view of how shadows travel on Jun’s dorsal muscles as he moves, and Sho thinks he can totally use a drink right now.  
  
He pours himself a glass of the wine from earlier, then he’s leaning against Jun’s counter, watching how Jun works with his back to Sho, how each movement grants Sho a view of Jun’s pale skin, the muscles on his back becoming prominent with each shift Jun makes.  
  
It’s absolutely breathtaking.  
  
He takes a sip, running his tongue on his lips to savor the hints of pure blackcurrant. Jun looks so beautiful like this, the way he’s focused entirely on Inoue and how he’s almost completely naked, his pale skin glowing in the living room light, a fine contrast against the dark pools of crimson at his feet.  
  
Sho thinks he will never tire of appreciating how lovely Jun can be, how sublime he looks when he has his full concentration on one thing. He knows it will take a long time for him to stop wanting Jun like this, because this is just exactly how he wants Jun: so passionate and so very intense to the point that he can never be contained.  
  
Sho will never stop wanting him, now that he thinks about it.  
  
He has to strain his ears to hear whatever Jun’s saying because the bass from next door is relentlessly booming, but he laughs and almost spills the wine he’s drinking when he hears Jun singing Tonari no Totoro for the second time in the night.  
  
“Is that the criteria you set?” he asks Jun, the rim of the wine glass resting on his lips. “That they’re supposed to like Totoro?”  
  
Jun chuckles at the question, his shoulders shaking and making the shadows on his scapula dance against the light. “Funnily enough, yes,” he admits. “I supposed Mao-chan here has Ikuta’s fiancée to blame, because if she wasn’t wailing that much on every fucking station there is, we wouldn’t have to sit through a Ghibli rerun for breakfast.”  
  
Sho hums noncommittally, twirling the wine glass in his hand. The carmine color of the wine doesn’t look so different from Inoue’s caking blood a few meters from him. He continues to watch Jun work, straining his ears to hear Jun sing despite the blaring music from next door.  
  
After some time, when most of the wine from the glass is making Sho feel a little lightheaded, Jun finally raises the knife high in triumph, still singing the Totoro theme song, but louder this time. Jun turns to him and beckons him to come over, and Sho finishes the remaining wine in one gulp before doing so.  
  
Jun pulls him, one of his blood-stained gloved hands wrapped around one of Sho’s wrists, before standing behind him and placing his chin on top of Sho’s angular shoulder. Sho feels Jun’s arms wrap around his waist, feels the way Jun taps the knife against his side, just under his ribcage.  
  
The next words Jun says are said against his neck. “Did I get it right? That’s how he smiles, doesn’t he?” he asks Sho, who finds himself unable to do anything but stare at Jun’s latest creation.  
  
“Totoro,” Sho says breathlessly, when he finally realizes why the cuts on Inoue’s face bear no resemblance to Ikuta’s, the absence of clean and straight cuts notable. It becomes clear to him how Jun tried to stick with Ghibli’s original design, how Totoro’s big smile is now forever etched on Inoue’s small face, because Jun gave Inoue a Glasgow smile, the bloodied, tiny pieces of her combined skin and tissue scattered around her. Her blood stains her perfect teeth but the lacerations Jun made on her face make her appear equally astonished and happy. Her eyes are still wide in frozen shock, but she’s smiling, there’s no doubt about that.  
  
Sho thinks that Jun definitely outdid himself this time as he looks at Inoue’s face smiling at them. If Jun didn’t cover her mouth and nose earlier, she would have died in the most beautiful way possible.  
  
“Did I get it right?” Jun repeats the question, his arms wrapping tighter around Sho’s frame. The knife at his side hovers too close to his skin, and Sho takes measured breaths before answering, “Yes. Just like Totoro.”  
  
Jun rewards him with a kiss pressed against his neck, and Sho tilts his head to kiss Jun properly, not minding if Inoue’s blood all over Jun’s body is transferring to his clothes. He breaks their kiss just to sing Tonari no Totoro for one last time, earning him Jun’s laughter before Jun silences him with a hand in his hair and finally claiming his lips again.

\--

Inoue Mao gained more posthumous fame than her predecessor salary man Ikuta.  
  
It was Jun’s idea to leave her body where Jun found her, and the first person to discover her was a man in his early thirties, out for a morning jog. The news reports say that the man was jogging around Yoyogi, and he needed to take a short break when he spotted Inoue sitting on a nearby curb and leaning mostly on a street sign, her head bowed.  
  
When the man tried to ask her what’s wrong and shook her by the shoulders, well, the rest was obvious. The discovery of Inoue’s murder made it to the front page; her missing tooth gave investigators the idea that this was a work of the same person who left a marquise-shaped pattern on Ikuta’s face some weeks ago, leading to an extensive, well-planned manhunt (or at least, that’s how it looks like on TV).  
  
The media labelled the perpetrator as the tooth fairy, and Jun laughs when Sho tells him about it.  
  
“They’re calling us a fairy,” Jun says, his eyes crinkling. “How imaginative and original of them.”  
  
“Maybe we should leave pennies next time,” Sho suggests, folding the paper he’s reading in half. “You know, to make it official.”

Jun laughs harder at that, before grabbing the remote to watch the news coverage. He’s obviously in a better mood this time. Sho thinks Jun must be very proud of his craft, for him to want to see how well-received it is right now.  
  
Every news program has their respective coverage on Inoue’s murder, but none of them show the full extent of Jun’s signature on her. Most programs pixelated the image, deeming it too sensitive for the public’s eyes. Jun noticeably perks up on that, he obviously likes the idea that his work with his trusty knife was considered too much for most people to be able to lay eyes on.  
  
“Look at how they blur it,” Jun tells him, pointing to the pixelated part of Inoue’s postmortem photograph. “And to think we actually bothered to wash her before letting her sit on that curb."

Sho shoves a spoonful of omurice in his mouth, chewing noisily before replying. “You’re the one who wanted her to look less suspicious,” he reminds Jun. That night, Jun seemed to think that they ought to wash Inoue’s face to get a better view of the smile he gave her, and Sho just gave in without any hesitation. He finds himself always giving in to Jun’s sudden bouts of obsessive compulsiveness, even if doing so will simply end up demanding more effort on Sho’s part.  
  
For Jun, he finds himself practically willing to do anything.

Jun takes a sip of coffee, scowling a little at its bitter taste. Jun always takes them black, telling Sho it drags him faster to wakefulness, making him more alert. Jun puts down the mug when a man’s face appears on the TV, the news anchor introducing him as Inoue’s ex-boyfriend.  
  
“Ah,” Jun says, clearly amused. “There’s the guy. Been wanting to meet him ever since I found her sobbing with her cellphone tucked under her ear.”

Sho reads the man’s name as Okada Masaki, more than five years younger than him. Sho looks at Jun before asking, “The same cellphone with the Totoro?” and Jun laughs before saying yes.  
  
He and Jun spend the rest of their breakfast listening to Okada’s testimony and subsequent pleas for justice. “Quite interesting how he seems to genuinely care for her now, isn’t it?” Jun asks him as Sho’s stuffing himself with Jun’s omurice. Jun’s cooking is good, really good, and Sho considers himself lucky that he gets to enjoy Jun’s cooking almost every day and every night.

“Mao-chan talked about him in your taxi ride?” Sho asks, actually curious. Jun never told him about the taxi ride, only that they got off more than eight blocks to Jun’s place, walking together in a chilly Tokyo night.  
  
Jun smiles at his use of her nickname. “Only that he’s a prick, though that doesn’t seem to be the case right now, does it?” Jun says, gesturing to the TV with his fork. “He’s milking this, this sudden media attention. Don’t you suppose he ought to thank us personally for the momentary fame he’s getting?”

Sho purses his lips in thought, before lifting a glass of water to his mouth. “We’re not going to do lovers, or even former lovers at that,” he tells Jun who frowns at him.  
  
“And why won’t we do that?”  
  
Sho hides a grin behind the glass. “Because it’s far crueler to leave one of them hanging, won’t you agree?”  
  
Jun’s eyes flash with something like understanding at that, and Sho watches how Jun leans forward, his elbows on the table. “You’re as much of an evil bastard as I am, Sho-san,” he says, addressing Sho in that polite manner he uses when something particularly noteworthy happens, and Sho just tilts his head in acknowledgement.  
  
Sometimes, the fact that he and Jun are in this together leaves no room for question, no room for doubt. They’re in this together because they’re too alike, and even still, they complement one another by providing whatever it is the other is lacking.  
  
It’s what makes them effective. It’s what makes them lethal and unforgiving and the current target of a citywide manhunt, even with just two murders.  
  
A man looking younger than the actual age plastered on the screen, named Ninomiya Kazunari, is the supposed chief investigator for the tooth fairy murders. Jun is still laughing at the sobriquet, but it seems to have caught on because soon enough, every news program is using it to refer to the both of them.  
  
“They still think it’s one person,” Jun says, after Ninomiya releases a statement that the police force is doing everything they can to catch the perpetrator. “They think there’s only one doing all of these, and they call him a murderer. A madman.”

Sho narrows his eyes at Jun. “What do you prefer, then? If not a madman, a murderer, a heartless criminal? If not an outlaw?” Those are what the media called them. Ninomiya himself used madman and heartless criminal in his statement.  
  
Jun meets his eyes, his brown orbs intense and sparkling. “Artist,” he tells Sho before smiling, and Sho laughs a little. Of course Jun prefers something as grandiose as that, it’s what makes him Jun. Jun likes to be recognized for his efforts. He’s incredibly greedy when it comes to praises because he knows the extent of his capabilities; he’s aware exactly how far his gift extends.

Sho can’t fault for him for being like that. Jun has talent and he has it in such abundance he ought to be proud of. What the media calls mutilation, Jun calls art, and really, who was Sho to tell him he’s wrong? No one, not when he shares similar views with Jun. Sho sees exactly what Jun sees. He sees Jun’s pieces for what they are, and they’re nothing but art, a show of mastery with a blade that culinary school obviously helped to hone towards perfection.  
  
Only Jun can turn murder into something even more tempting, something more exciting and engaging, and call the final product their latest magnum opus. Granted, Jun does most of the work, but that’s just how far Sho’s promise of letting him do whatever he wants extends. If Jun wants to take matters in his own hands, who was Sho to stop him from doing it?

Sho knows he’ll give in to whatever request Jun asks of him and that provided it is within his ability, he’ll give whatever Jun asks for without hesitation. That’s just how much hold Jun has over him, and that’s just the way things are between the two them.  
  
“Shall we janken for it?” Jun says, offering a clenched fist across the table. “On who gets to pick this time.”  
  
Sho stares at Jun’s fist before asking, “What, it’s not my turn?”

“You can’t deny I have impeccable taste Sho-san,” Jun tells him with a grin. That’s true, Sho thinks, considering that Inoue the salary woman was vastly different from Ikuta the sales representative. They both had what Sho wanted, that’s for certain, but they were different in the way they approached their impending ends.  
  
And Sho finds himself utterly fascinated by that, that different people have different approaches and make different decisions despite being given the very same options and placed under similar circumstances.

It excites him in such a way that the thrill courses through his veins, the sensation slowly becoming bone-deep and the craving so strong it’s practically impossible not to act and satisfy it.  
  
Still, he feels like Jun is posing a challenge with that comment of his, that Jun is challenging him to do better, to top the confident Inoue who liked Totoro. Sho likes Jun like this, when Jun is not-so-subtly raising the hurdle and daring Sho to do better, to show Jun exactly what he’s got.

Jun is just using the janken to remind Sho of the fact that he won’t hand over the reins easily, not with the way last night went. That is just Jun’s way of telling Sho that he needs to persuade Jun to say yes, to exert a little bit of effort than usual because Jun has no intention of going easy on him and that Sho’s not different from anyone else, because Jun will make him strive for approval.  
  
Jun’s exacting like that and that’s one of the things about him that makes him so irresistible in Sho’s eyes.

Sho puts a hand on top of Jun’s clenched fist, watching how Jun’s eyes narrow in understanding that Sho’s meeting his challenge head-on. “Let me choose this time,” he says, his thumb stroking Jun’s knuckles, “and then you get to tell me what you think.”

Jun’s eyes follow the movement of his thumb before grinning at him. “And if I don’t like it?”  
  
Sho withdraws his hand, leaning back against the armrests of the chair. “I’ll kill him or her myself.”  
  
Jun cocks his head, tapping one of his fingers against his full lips. He looks so thoughtful that Sho almost believes it. “And rob me of my usual fun? That’s not fair.”

Sho turns his gaze away from Jun to look around the apartment, the spacious place Jun has for himself that Sho finds himself in nearly all the time. He has a key to Jun’s place, something Jun gave him even before Sho told him they only need thirty-two. Jun’s flat is finely furnished with minimalist decors, his kitchen more equipped than average kitchens given the nature of his job.  
  
Sho grins, a plan forming in his head. “Then let’s both choose this time. See who has a better smile.”  
  
“And when I win?” Jun asks nonchalantly, and Sho smiles wider. When. Jun said when, not even if. He’s so certain that he’ll claim this round for his own that it amuses Sho to no end. This is Jun’s special way of upping the game, of modifying the rules and making things far more interesting as if they weren’t before.

Sho decides to indulge him. “When you win, well, that’s double the fun you get to have, don’t you think?” He knows Jun can’t resist this kind of bait, that’s why he offers it up to Jun in the first place. The idea of getting to do something new with each escapade thrills Jun to no end.  
  
Jun spreads his palms flat on the tabletop before leaning across the table and Sho meets him halfway for a kiss. He feels Jun smile against his mouth, the answer Sho needs from him. This is how Jun says yes sometimes. He takes away Sho’s breath in the most direct approach possible leaving Sho weak in the knees and wanting more, so much more than what Jun feels like granting at the moment.  
  
Sho’s starting to realize that every moment he gets to spend with Jun will all end up in a similar manner. Like always, Jun is the only one privy to the rules and instead of Sho being the slightest bit annoyed about that, all he feels is that it makes Jun more compelling, all it does is to lure him further in.

And Sho knows that despite the situation not being in his favor, he won’t even think of lifting a finger to resist.

\--

It takes an entire month and a half of a week before he and Jun meet in the apartment again, plastic sheets spread neatly on Jun’s living room, the bundle of cable ties and pieces of cloth perched beside Jun’s blu-ray player, pairs of still-sealed gloves placed on the kitchen counter, a bottle of unopened red wine and two glasses beside it.  
  
It takes an entire month before he comes inside Jun’s apartment, his own guest thrown over his shoulders like a sack, and finds Jun drinking wine while sitting on the kitchen counter. There is a man sitting at the center of the living room, tightly secured to one of the chairs from the dining table.

That’s new, Sho thinks. Jun probably didn’t want this man to crawl pathetically on his floor again, not after Inoue. That woman left quite an impression, indeed.

In addition to the cloth gag, the man strapped to the chair is also wearing a sleeping mask. His head is thrashing wildly, slurred words of what sounds like, “Where am I?”, “What do you want?” and “Who are you?” escaping from his lips. Sho can’t tell exactly, not with the cloth tied around the man’s head prohibiting coherent speech, but he has an inkling he’s right about those three sentences in one way or another.  
  
Sho drops the woman he’s carrying unceremoniously on one of Jun’s couches. The impact won’t wake her, no, Sho’s certain she drank enough of the stuff (Myslee) he casually slipped in her drink. Sho concentrates a little to remember her name. Maki-chan. He finds himself nodding. Yes. Maki-chan, a freeter in her early twenties. She sat beside Sho in one of the many bars in Aoyama he’s been to for tonight, casually asking Sho if he’d be willing to buy her a drink.

Sho obliged her, and soon enough Maki-chan was telling him about herself, how unsatisfied she is with her life, how she wants more but almost all of them slip from her grasp even before she thinks of getting them for herself, how she’s always left hanging nearly all her life, how mundane and predictable her life’s turning out that she wants something new, something more.  
  
Well, Sho thinks he’s doing Maki-chan a favor now.

Jun stands up from the kitchen counter, his feet making a dull thud on the floor tiles, and Sho hears the man strapped to the chair moan in pain when Jun slaps him across the face with the back of his hand, making Sho grin. Jun hates it when they get loud, which is why he always insists on the gag. Apparently, not even a piece of cloth can stop this stranger from talking.  
  
Jun grabs a lock of the man’s hair, tilting his face up. “Too noisy, Koyama-san,” Jun says before taking another sip of wine. “You don’t want to wake our other guest ahead of schedule, do you?”

Jun turns to Sho, still not letting go of the man’s—Sho now knows to be Koyama—hair. “Shall I get a chair for the lady?” he asks in a polite voice, too polite that Sho laughs.  
   
He waves off Jun’s offer, getting the chair himself. He places it right in front of Koyama’s chair before heaving Maki-chan’s body and puts her into a position that mirrors Koyama’s. Jun tosses a pair of gloves in his direction and he nods in Jun’s direction in thanks before he proceeds to work. He is just finishing tying a cloth around her head to gag her when he feels her stir.

Sho moves away from her, examining each cable tie around her wrists and ankles, making sure they’re fastened well and secure. He and Jun don’t want any of them to run, that will just make things messier. They don’t need that kind of flair for tonight, Sho thinks.  
  
He sees Maki-chan blink at him multiple times and Sho waits for her to properly focus and take in her surroundings. He smiles when he sees her eyes shift from sleepiness to immediate alarm, her arms jerking in an attempt to loosen the ties, her knees quivering, and soon enough she’s squirming in the chair. She looks desperate like this, Sho thinks, very far from the unsatisfied woman from earlier.  
  
He puts a finger under her chin and he delights in the way she tries to escape his touch. “Maki-chan,” Sho coos, a clear imitation of how illusory saccharine Jun is once in a while, “did you enjoy that drink?”

He hears Jun snort behind him. He hears movement, and when he turns to look, Jun has removed the sleeping mask from Koyama’s face. Jun then motions for him to step aside and have their soon-to-be victims for the night look at one another, their expressions a mirror of each other’s, the desperation in their features so similar.  
  
“I like her, Sho,” Jun says, his eyes on the woman. “She has a cute face. I love those kinds of faces. Very easy to work with.” He is obviously hiding a smirk behind the wine glass.

Jun seems to be sincere with his comment because Sho sees nothing but approval dancing in his eyes. Jun turns to him and when he says, “Drink with me,” Sho knows it’s not really a request. Sho just nods, already making his way to the kitchen counter to grab the other glass and pour himself one.

Jun raises his own glass in a toast and Sho mimics it, despite their distance. He leans against the counter and just watches Jun, who, from Sho’s angle, looks like he’s standing between Koyama and Maki-chan. For their part, the two people strapped to different chairs look absolutely terrified, Maki-chan appearing slightly hysterical in Sho’s eyes.  
  
“Tell me about him,” he says to Jun before drinking, the sweet blackberry and slightly spicy flavor touching his lips.

Jun takes a breath. “Apprentice shop manager of a clothing store in Sumida, bored and cannot wait for a promotion, obviously stupid enough to come with me,” Jun says in a deadpan voice. “Not as interesting as what you brought here, that’s for sure, but he has a good smile. He smiled for me in that annoyingly friendly and helpful manner when I approached him, thinking he can add a few points to himself if he helps a friend out. He said to me, ‘How may I help you?’ in that same annoying voice they always use.”  
  
Sho chuckles. “So annoying that you brought him here?”  
  
Jun doesn’t even miss a beat, answering immediately with a, “Clearly.”

Sho licks his lips before speaking, not waiting for Jun to ask. Not when Jun’s this pissed, this edgy. He points at Jun’s left with the same hand holding the wine glass. “That’s Maki-chan,” he says, and when the woman turns to him, Sho smiles at her before saying, “Maki-chan, this is Matsumoto-san.”  
  
Jun nods slightly in acknowledgement before turning back to Sho, his eyes narrowed. “Maki-chan?” he repeats, voice icy. “I suppose she let you call her that?”  
  
Sho doesn’t even blink. “She did. Said to me, ‘oh won’t you take me to someplace else, Sho-san? Someplace where I can forget for a while? Won’t you help me forget? My life is too uninteresting, too boring. Surely you can help?’” he says to Jun, imitating the tone the woman used on him at the bar.

He smirks when he sees Jun’s nostrils flare, and soon enough Jun’s stepping into the woman’s space. “Did you really say that, Maki-chan?” he asks, his voice so low that Sho has to strain to hear it. “Said those words, exactly those words to Sho-san here? Just nod. If you mean yes, nod.”

The woman nods and the next thing Sho hears is a loud crack followed by her muffled sob, because Jun slapped her across the face, the same way he slapped Koyama from making too much noise a few minutes ago.  
  
“She actually said yes,” Jun says in a small voice, his disbelief so evident. Sho thinks he’s saying it to himself, because he speaks in a voice so quiet that the apartment’s air-conditioning’s humming is slightly louder than his voice. “She actually fucking admitted it to me. To me. Of all the fucking people to admit it to.” Jun chuckles softly then he’s repeating, “She admitted it, she said yes,” to himself over and over again.  
  
Then he’s on Maki-chan’s space again, the woman now in tears and trying to move away from Jun despite the impossibility of it happening. “You just gave me a good reason to make you my next piece with that admission, Maki-chan. I suppose your life won’t be as boring as it obviously was before right after this.”

He sees Jun pull a knife from his back pocket, the same knife he used on Ikuta and Inoue. The same knife he will use on Maki-chan and Koyama from Sumida here, Sho realizes.  
  
“Jun,” Sho says, because he thinks Jun won’t hesitate to slit the woman’s throat right now if he doesn’t do anything. Jun turns to him, his glare so murderous and full of possessiveness that Sho feels it course right through him, travel down his spine and make the rest of his blood run south.  
  
Jun’s so beautiful like this, he thinks. He will never get tired of seeing Jun like this, the bloodlust and the rage mixed in his eyes, eyes that look almost black because of the dim lighting they have in the living room.  
  
“What’s wrong, Sho-san?” Jun singsongs, a smirk with no trace of delight on it plastered on his face. “You don’t want me to ruin her cute face? Want to take her someplace else to fucking forget first? Want to help her out because you can, and I quote, ‘surely’ do it?”

Sho takes a careful sip of wine, his eyes never leaving Jun’s. Jun’s vibrating with so much unspent energy tonight. Sho has never seen him this irritable before, not with Ikuta or Inoue.  
  
“Come here,” is all he says to Jun who surprisingly acquiesces, taking slow, measured steps to where Sho is. Sho runs his hands up and down Jun’s arms when Jun’s finally within reach, his thumb rubbing circles occasionally. He kisses Jun’s cheek, not minding their audience.  
  
“Are you angry?” he whispers against Jun’s ear. He smiles when he feels Jun point the knife right at his jugular.

“The next time you ask me that question, it’s your face I will carve next. After I do hers,” Jun answers, his head tilting to Maki-chan’s direction. Jun taps the knife against his neck twice, stressing his point, before finally withdrawing.

Sho keeps a hand on Jun’s elbow, pulling him closer still. “Okay,” he says against Jun’s cheek. “Sorry.”  
  
He feels Jun wrap a finger on his chin. “I’m going to kill her for that Sho, you know that. I’m going to fucking kill her for that,” Jun says, his eyes focused on Sho’s, and Sho just nods.  
  
“And I’m not going to stop you,” he says before leaning forward to kiss Jun lightly. “In fact, I’ll watch. I’ll watch every bit of it, every bit of what you’re willing to let me see.”

Jun shoves him away all of a sudden, a look of disgust on his face. “I can smell her on you. Did you let her rest her head on your shoulder too?” Jun turns away from him without waiting for a response before, “That sloping shoulder of his a good place for you to put your head on, Maki-chan?” addressing the woman who shakes her head furiously this time, her muffled sobs filling the apartment along with Koyama’s frequent grunts.  
  
Sho gives a tiny squeeze on Jun’s forearm, just enough to get his attention back to Sho. “I didn’t react this much with Mao-chan, you know,” he points out.

Jun’s suddenly looking at him like he’s three seconds away from jamming the knife in Sho’s eye. “You shot her in the leg,” he reminds Sho. “I haven’t done anything yet. You put a bullet through her thigh, and I haven’t done anything except pull a knife from my pocket. I didn’t even point it at her. I pointed it right under your neck and you tell me you didn’t react this much?”

Ah yes, Sho thinks, that. That did happen. To his defense, Mao-chan at that time was getting away. But Sho supposes Jun has a point. He will admit to shooting her partly because of the display at the genkan. He still hasn’t forgotten about that.  
  
He raises his hands in surrender. “Point taken,” he tells Jun. “But won’t you save her for last? I do want her to know what it is we do because she’s severely unsatisfied. Won’t you lend a hand, Jun?”

Jun glares at him, his pent-up anger so transparent in his eyes. “I will give her a show, if that’s what you’re asking for,” he says, and Sho grins because that’s Jun’s way of saying yes, he will save Maki-chan for last and deal with Koyama first, the apprentice shopkeeper that annoyed Jun so much.  
  
The man is now thrashing against his restraints, or at least, trying to do so in as much room he’s currently provided with, which isn’t much to begin with. The chair he’s strapped to makes continuous noises against the plastic, and Sho can see how each noise depletes Jun’s patience.

“Koyama-san,” Jun says before taking a deep breath, “I was thinking of making it quick for you, but your incessant moving and struggling made me rethink that decision, so no.” Jun walks over to the man while flipping the knife between his fingers. Jun places one hand against the back of the chair and peers at the shopkeeper’s face.  
  
“No, I’m going to make Maki-chan here watch what I’m going to do with you, just to give her a taste of what it’ll be, while you’re still breathing and here with us,” Jun tells him in an emotionless voice, then he’s pulling Koyama’s hair back and baring his throat.  
  
“I’m going to let you bleed to death,” Jun promises the man who desperately struggles against Jun’s grip, against the ties securing him. His whimpers are loud enough for Sho to hear, and Sho watches everything while taking occasional sips of wine.

Without warning, Jun makes a quick slash across the man’s right cheek, his blood spurting and staining nearly everywhere, including Jun’s gloved hand. Maki-chan behind Jun makes another muffled sob before turning her head to the side and shutting her eyes tight.  
  
Sho clicks his tongue. Now that won’t do, he thinks, before walking towards the woman and crouching behind her. He places his hands on the sides of her face and turns her head back, back to where she can watch Jun carve Koyama’s face to whatever design he thought fitting.  
  
Sho whispers in her ear, “Open your eyes and watch, Maki-chan,” and when the woman just sobs harder, Sho tightens her grip on her head. “Open your eyes or I will make sure you won’t be able to close them anymore.”

The woman obeys at that, and when Sho looks up, he sees Jun looking at them, a glint in his eyes. Sho waits for Jun to say anything, but Jun just turns back to the shopkeeper and makes another slash without preamble. Koyama is sobbing and thrashing now, not looking any different from the trembling Maki-chan under Sho’s fingertips.  
  
“So helpful,” Jun’s murmuring, “so helpful earlier. So eager to help, so eager to be praised and get promoted. So full of complaints, too. So impatient to become store manager. Well, since you’re so fucking impatient,” Jun pauses before putting a hand under Koyama’s face to cup his chin, tilting it upwards, “let’s do this quick.”

And Sho watches, along with the sobbing woman in front of him, how Jun slashes continuously at Koyama’s face, bits of his flesh getting removed nearly every second. Sho makes sure Maki-chan continues watching by occasionally asking her to look and to not turn her eyes away.  
  
Despite Jun’s irritation, Sho sees that he’s still imaginative, still artistic enough despite Koyama’s struggling. Jun delivers another backhanded slap across the man’s face, when Koyama seemingly messed up a laceration by moving too much, his blood making the contact sound sticky.

“Stop moving and we’ll get this over quick,” Jun says, clearly annoyed. He buries one of his hands in the shopkeeper’s hair and pulls without mercy, before making a gash so long and deep that the blood oozes profusely. The woman in Sho’s grip makes a horrified sob, muffled by the gag, and she tries to turn her head away from what Jun’s doing, her eyes shut tight, but Sho keeps her in place.  
  
“Look,” he hisses against her ear, “look or I will cut your eyelids off to make sure you don’t get to close your eyes again. I may not be as good as him,” he gestures to Jun with his head, “but I can fucking cut your eyelids off, no problem. So look.”

Maki-chan cries harder, her hot tears running on her cheeks, some portions of the elastic material of Sho’s gloves getting soaked, but she keeps her eyes on Jun and Koyama. Sho hears her continuous sobs, her whimpers growing louder when Jun makes a particularly deep cut that sends Koyama to a muffled howl of pain, but she doesn’t close her eyes anymore. Sho supposes he ought to give her a bit of credit for that.

Sho sees Jun grip the shopkeeper’s nose. “Do you need this? Do you think you still need this? This is in the fucking way,” Jun says before slashing relentlessly through the flesh, severing the man’s nose from the rest of his face. Koyama makes a muffled wail at that, his eyes watering and giving in to tears.  
  
Sho makes sure Maki-chan sees how Jun throws the man’s severed nose to the side, makes sure she sees how Koyama’s face bleed copiously, how his face is nothing but crimson, how the white cloth over his mouth is stained dark red. Sho makes sure she gets to see how exacting Jun is, that despite his canvas continuously struggling and moving, he’s still making progress with his art.

He now notices that the lacerations Jun made earlier were swirls, beginning from Koyama’s forehead to the part where the cloth gag begins. There is one straight line at the center of the man’s face, supposedly runs through his nose before Jun removed it, ending right before the curve of his lips. The cuts are not uniform though, some are made too deep and Sho knows that’s because of Koyama moving too much. Jun won’t like that.  
  
Jun flips the knife in his right hand, its dripping blade stuck between his thumb and forefinger. “He moves so much,” Jun complains. He flips the knife one last time, his eyes narrowed.  
  
“Thankfully,” Jun continues theatrically, “I know just what to do.”

And Sho watches with eyes wide, Maki-chan making a surprised gasp at the back of her throat that ends up becoming a sob, as Jun pulls Koyama’s hair backwards before plunging the knife abruptly inside the man’s mouth, sawing the skin open until he reaches the edge of the face, and doing the same on the other side.  
  
He thinks Jun will stop there when Jun suddenly hands him the knife without looking, and Sho takes it without question and puts the blade against Maki-chan’s throat. “Keep looking,” he tells the woman who manages a small nod despite her tears.  
  
Together they watch, Sho with fascination and Maki-chan in horror, as Jun shoves his fingers inside the gashes he just made, and Sho watches with his mouth hanging open as Jun attempts to remove the man’s entire jaw.

“Jun,” Sho says, coaxing Jun out of his concentration, “I don’t think you can remove that with just your hands.”  
  
Jun grunts but removes his hands from Koyama’s face before giving him another backhanded slap. “Stop looking at me with those begging eyes,” Jun tells the shopkeeper. “Do you want me to remove your eyes too? Like I did to that nose you don’t need? Because I can do that. I can do that right after.”  
  
Koyama’s obviously too weak to respond to that, but Sho sees a minute shake of the head from him. “Jun,” Sho says again, “you’re going to want an axe if you want to tear off his jaw. And we don’t have that here. Not even the biggest knives in your collection can do the trick.”  
  
He hears Jun sigh before cracking his neck joints. “Fine,” Jun says through gritted teeth, “if I can’t remove it, I’ll settle for something else. He has ruined it more than enough, anyway.”  
  
Sho knows that the ‘it’ is Jun’s design, Jun’s first art for tonight. Jun definitely doesn’t appreciate Koyama ruining it. Sho almost suggests that Jun should just kill the impatient apprentice, but he remembers how Jun promised to let the man die of exsanguination, so he keeps his mouth shut.

Jun extends a hand without looking at them and Sho dutifully puts the knife on his palm. Maki-chan makes a slight sound of relief at the loss of the blade against her throat, so Sho reminds her that that doesn’t make her exactly safe.  
  
“You’re still going to watch what he’s going to do, or I’ll ask him to actually try to remove your jaw while you’re still alive,” he whispers against her ear, delighted with the way she squirms.

Sho lifts his eyes to watch Jun, who’s now removing patches of flesh from Koyama’s face, beginning from the horizontal gashes he made on the man’s cheeks. Jun has one hand on the apprentice’s forehead to keep him in place, the other with the knife making quick work and cutting off bits of skin without care. Around Koyama’s chair are pieces of his face, his nose surrounded by a tiny pool of crimson.  
  
Maki-chan’s sobbing hard now, her tears leaving trails on her face, their warmth seeping through the material of Sho’s gloves. When Jun finally steps away from Koyama, letting them see what he’s done, Maki-chan makes a desperate whimper and shakes her head in fierce denial. Sho keeps his hands on the side of her face, leaning to whisper against her ear, “Look.”

Jun turns to them, face stained crimson with Koyama’s blood, his eyes narrowing at Sho’s position behind the chair, a frown forming on his face when he finally sees how Sho’s hands grip the woman’s face. He clicks his tongue in obvious annoyance before turning back to Koyama.  
  
“Koyama-san from Sumida. That’s their clothing shop logo I put right there on his face,” Jun says with a casual flick of the wrist. Despite the shadows falling on Koyama’s face, Sho can see that Jun carved a clothes hanger on his face, the long horizontal laceration on the sides of the man’s mouth serving as the bar, the hook running from his forehead down to where his nose was, before finally ending at his lips.  
  
Koyama’s face bleeds profusely, the blood spurting out continuously and staining his yellow shirt crimson. Jun’s design is almost difficult to see, but all Sho has to do is to follow where the blood oozes out freely and he can see the deep cuts Jun made on the apprentice’s face. Jun even made swirls on the man’s cheek, and Sho supposes that was all part of the clothing shop logo.

“Let’s see him take over the store in that state,” Jun says, his voice laced with mirth. Despite his design being far from perfect due to the struggling, Jun still seems to be proud of his work. The shopkeeper is starting to make less whimpers, the blood loss clearly draining him of energy and soon, life. All in all Koyama is a bloody mess, his face nothing but red and missing a nose. His spread legs are beginning to cease quivering, and Sho knows it’s only a matter of time till the man dies. He also knows that Jun won’t ever allow Koyama the mercy of a swift death, so they will have to wait for him to actually bleed and bleed till he has finally bled enough.  
  
Jun turns to Sho, licking his lips. “That reminds me, which parts are you thinking of getting?”

Sho feels the way Maki-chan tenses underneath his fingertips at the question. He only remembers now that they didn’t exactly tell her nor Koyama from Sumida what do they actually want. Jun lost patience far earlier than expected, which led to this bloodied mess in the living room.  
  
Sho smiles, making sure he does it against Maki-chan’s cheek. The woman tries to move away from him, but Sho’s hands keep her in place. “Central incisors. From both of them,” he says, lifting the woman’s chin with a slight nudge.

Maki-chan makes a muffled wail at that, clearly realizing now who they are and what they do. Sho hums against her ear. “Yes, yes,” he says to her with a slight nod, “you heard the news, heard what they say. You saw what we do, so yes, that’s what I want. That’s what you’re here for, what Koyama-san is here for in the first place.”  
  
He grins, making sure she can feel it against her earlobe. “After all, Maki-chan,” he says her name sweetly, the same voice he used on her in the bar earlier, “I did ask you to smile for me, didn’t I?” and the woman sobs harder at that, bordering on hysteria, her slurred begging of what sounds like, “Please don’t,” loud enough for both him and Jun to hear.  
  
Jun frowns. “They always say that. ‘Please don’t’. Don’t what? ‘Please don’t kill me’? ‘Please don’t hurt me’? ‘Please don’t hack my face off’? Which is it, Maki-chan?”

Sho keeps his face close to the woman’s cheek before answering, “I think it’s all of those things at the same time.”  
  
Jun moves towards them, tapping the knife against his other palm. He licks his lips before smiling, looking completely ominous under the living room light. “All of them? Such a selfish one, aren’t you?” he addresses the woman who shakes her head furiously. Sho thinks she’s a fast learner, to the point that she knows if she says the wrong thing, Jun won’t hesitate to hit her again. And considering that Sho still hasn’t let go of her yet, well. The chances of that happening again are very high.  
  
Sho realizes that the length of contact he has with someone else is indirectly proportional to how high their chances of getting unscathed become by the minute.

He makes sure he’s cheek to cheek with the woman when he speaks next, but he speaks to Jun this time. “Doesn’t she have a cute face?”  
  
Jun’s nostrils flare at that, his eyes narrowing. Sho likes doing this, likes taunting Jun until Jun just gives in to the bloodlust, because that kind of Jun is the most beautiful Jun for him. Sho likes seeing nothing but red in Jun’s eyes, when the rage inside him is so palpable Sho can almost taste it. He likes Jun best when the knife in Jun’s hand becomes an extension of him, becomes his means of creating something beautiful, something far more sublime for anyone else to understand but the both of them.  
  
Jun is finally crouching between Maki-chan’s spread legs, his eyes full of combined anger and passion. When Jun looks up Sho makes sure he maneuvers Maki-chan’s face to meet his eyes, at the same time making sure he himself is still in contact with the woman, just to spite Jun.

He sees Jun’s eyes focus on where his cheek is resting against the woman’s. “She does have a cute face,” Jun says with gritted teeth and Sho, being the asshole that he feels like being right now, smiles at Jun before turning his head to say against the woman’s ear, “Did you hear that, Maki-chan?” his eyes never leaving Jun’s. The woman between them just sobs harder, her tears continuously running down her cheeks. “He said you’re cute for the second time tonight.”  
  
Jun places his hands on top of Maki-chan’s knees, his breathing becoming deeper. Sho watches as Jun tilts his head before blinking the rage away, then Jun is smiling at the two of them like it’s Christmas morning. How he did that, Sho will never know, but he finds himself so enamored with the fact that Jun can just shift gears in less than a second.  
  
“Maki-chan,” Jun coos, sounding very innocent and sweet, “I know just what to do with you.”

The woman makes a particularly loud wail at that, thrashing wildly in her seat as much as her restraints allow, her wrists and ankle joints moving frantically in a desperate attempt to loosen her ties. Sho can feel her tears against his cheek because he still hasn’t moved away from her, not even when Jun looks like three steps away from slitting her throat.

Deciding to test the limits of Jun’s patience further, Sho turns to say against the woman’s ear that he’s going to take care of Koyama-san now and that she better just stay put and let Jun do the work, before giving her tear-streaked cheek a peck. Jun’s eyes widen at that, and Sho can hear how he took a deep breath through his teeth, almost sounding like a hiss.  
  
Sho finally steps away from Maki-chan’s chair, moving towards Koyama who clearly bled to his death already. When he turns he meets Jun’s eyes and Jun’s giving a smile that has no semblance of joy in it. “That was just underhanded, Sho-san,” Jun tells him as he lifts the knife in his hand, making Maki-chan thrash against her restraints.

Jun turns to the woman as he lets the blade run lightly against her cheek. “He really wants you to die, don’t you think?” Jun asks her and Sho laughs, already making his way to retrieve his tools. He has work to do, just like Jun.  He thinks it’ll save them less time if he works on extracting a tooth while Jun busily hacks off Maki-chan’s face.  
  
After all, they have two bodies to move for tonight. Jun’s apartment may be big and spacious enough to commit double homicide with no problem, but Jun doesn’t really like the idea of storing the bodies after he’s done with them. No, like a true artist, Jun likes to display them almost immediately after he’s done with them. Jun likes to be showered with praise via extensive media coverage as soon as he’s done showing his latest pieces to the rest of the world.  
  
He’s a bit of a narcissist like that, Sho thinks.

Sho slaps Koyama’s face twice just to check. The man’s head just lulls forward and Sho makes one final check by pulling the man’s hair backwards and delivering one more backhanded slap. His knuckle made a sticky sound when it came in contact with Koyama’s face, a bit of the man’s blood splattering on Sho’s face. But Koyama makes no movement, no sound.  
  
Jun really kept his promise.

Exsanguination isn’t a very unique way of dying, not in Sho’s opinion, but the cause of it being a hacked off face probably is. The deep gashes Jun left in the sides of the man’s mouth running up to the edge of his face is probably what caused the most loss of blood. Granted, Jun did make deep punctures and lacerations on the man’s cheek to create the swirls in the supposed clothes hanger logo of that shop in Sumida, but the smile Jun forcefully carved on the man’s face is what killed him in the end.  
  
Jun said Koyama had an annoying smile. Sho supposes this is far more fitting for Jun’s standards. It’s not like the carbon copy of the Totoro smile he gave to Mao-chan more than a month ago, no, because Jun removed the flesh on Koyama’s jaw as well. Sho thinks either Jun has really grown impatient and extremely pissed with Koyama or he just didn’t like the idea of a repeat design.  
  
It’s probably both, now that Sho seriously gives it a thought.

Sho lifts Koyama’s lips (or at least whatever Jun left of it) to peer at his teeth, and Sho notes that despite the teeth being stained completely scarlet, Jun was right about their quality. Had Sho been more lazy he would have opted to get more than a tooth from Koyama himself, but that would mean he’s depriving himself and Jun of more nightly excursions like this.  
  
Jun definitely won’t like that, and frankly, Sho won’t either, because nights like this end up with Jun needing to release a lot of tension and Sho is only too happy to lend Jun a hand regarding that. The past two times ended up with Sho facedown on Jun’s pillows, Jun’s breath ghosting on his shoulders, his spine, all over his body. When Sho woke up the following morning he remembers feeling sore and that he ached in all the right places.

With Sho’s display with Maki-chan, he supposes Jun will make sure he pays for it later.  
  
He makes quick work with Koyama, untying the gag first before placing one of his hands on the man’s forehead to keep him still, the dental elevators carefully doing nudges to pry the tooth loose. Sho momentarily loses concentration when he hears Jun hit Maki-chan across the face with the knife handle, the woman making a muffled groan of pain.

He hears Jun click his tongue. “This is why I killed the first two before I made a masterpiece out of them,” Jun muses to himself, but still loud enough for Sho to hear. “When they’re alive they move too fucking much and they always end up ruining my work.”  
  
He hears Jun say, “If you move again, the next place you’ll find this knife is right there between that spot where your jaw meets your neck. I swear it,” to Maki-chan who sniffs but otherwise makes no more sound. At least nothing loud enough for Sho to hear.

Sho finally extracts Koyama’s central incisor and he makes his way to Jun’s kitchen to wash his tools and preserve the tooth for future use, all the while keeping his eyes on Jun and the way his knife glints under the light.  
  
Jun’s face is that of pure concentration, his left hand buried in Maki-chan’s short locks and pulling hard, keeping her head in place. Whenever the woman tries to turn away, Jun flips the knife to hit her face with the handle, before getting back to work again.

When Sho’s done and the tooth is safely stored in a vial and placed in the drawer where he keeps the other vials, he moves behind Maki-chan’s chair and grasps the sides of her face with both hands. She tries to turn her face away but Sho’s stronger, so he manages to keep her in place. Jun looks at him questioningly and Sho just shrugs.  
  
“Less movement this way, don’t you think?”  
  
Jun smiles at that before working again, the tip of his tongue sticking out from the corner of his lips. Sho looks down and sees that Jun has done something new this time, and Sho’s confusion must be so evident in his face because when Jun shoots a glance his way, he’s explaining what he’s doing to Sho.  
  
“Like a cute manga heroine, that’s what she’ll become. But I thought she still needs bigger eyes to be as cute as those girls.”

Ah, now Sho gets it. He finally understands why Jun made tiny cuts surrounding Maki-chan’s eyes. The way Maki-chan’s entire body shakes when Jun finally embedded the knife deep enough to remove patches of skin under her eyes is something Sho won’t forget ever seeing and feeling underneath his fingertips. He supposes he has to thank Jun for that experience.

Soon enough Jun is hacking away bits of Maki-chan, the bored and immensely unsatisfied girl from one bar in Aoyama. Jun smiles throughout the whole thing, even attempts to placate Maki-chan with hushes here and there. When Jun’s finally sawing off her eyelids (she thrashes wildly at that and Sho has to use most of his strength to make sure she doesn’t get to move that much) and tossing the severed flesh somewhere behind him, Sho thinks that the way she bleeds and how it combines with Koyama’s blood on Jun’s skin is quite a sight.  
  
He voices the thought out to Jun who just laughs quietly, his focus now on cutting pieces of the bags under her eyes. Needs bigger eyes, Jun said earlier. Sho realizes that Jun meant every word in such a way that he will cut off any piece of skin just to give Maki-chan exactly that.

When Jun steps away with his head tilted to side, Sho takes that as his cue to finally look down and examine Jun’s work. He sees Maki-chan’s eyes staring right back at him, her eyeballs looking ready to pop out of their sockets any moment. With no eyelids and other surrounding skin to hold them in place, that’s probably very likely to occur given the way her eyes look right now.  
  
“Shall I gouge them out Sho-san?” Jun asks him, his lips twitching to indicate Maki-chan’s eyes.  
  
Sho hums thoughtfully, considering the merit of Jun’s offer. The woman underneath his fingertips tries to move away, to turn her head away but Sho’s grip keeps her in place and he clicks a tongue in annoyance when she still continues trying despite that.  
  
“Gouge them out and let her crawl?” Sho asks Jun who shrugs his shoulders before shooting a glance behind him, behind Koyama’s body. Sho knows Jun’s looking at the TV set, or rather, what’s hidden under it.  
  
“If I do that you’re just going to shoot her again and this time we don’t have Shun’s bass to mask the sound, so no, I think not,” Jun tells him with furrowed eyebrows.

Sho just rolls his eyes at that, because trust Jun to be the one to think about things like that. “Fair enough,” he says. “Won’t you kill her now? She thrashes too much and honestly, I’m tired of holding her face just to keep her in place.”  
  
Jun grins suddenly, before flipping the knife so that the handle is pointing at Sho. “I have a better idea. Why not kill her yourself? She came with you here, thought you could help and lend a hand to her woes, her sorrows, thought you could satisfy her in some way and leave her something that could have made her life less boring. It’s mighty time to show her that she was right about that all along, isn’t it, Sho-san?”

Sho considers Jun’s proposal. The fact that Jun is handing this to him definitely means something, but it’s something Sho can’t determine for now. Technically Jun is done with her face and Jun doesn’t need to go any further because he already did what he wanted. It’s Sho who still has some unfinished business; it’s him who still wants something that Maki-chan can only give when she’s finally dead.  
  
Sho gestures to the TV with his chin. “Open the TV and turn up the volume,” he instructs Jun who blinks at the order for a few times before acquiescing. Jun flips through the channels until they end up with a low-budget action film from a decade ago then Jun’s turning the volume up to the maximum. Jun then feels under the TV set for the .357 Sho hid in there, and he checks the thing for bullets first before handing them to Sho.

Jun shakes his head at him. “Should’ve known you’d prefer to make it quick.”  
  
“I call it being direct to the point, Matsumoto, and you better remember that. Not everyone’s skilled with knives,” he shoots back.  
  
Jun steps away, moving to place a hand on the back of Koyama’s chair. Jun leans on the chair as he watches Sho with slight disapproval. He certainly preferred the knife doing the trick, but he did make the offer to Sho and Sho will gladly remind him of that bit if he ever thinks of butting in.

Sho cocks the hammer of the revolver at the same time as someone from the action film howls in pain. He places the muzzle right between Maki-chan’s eyes, her suddenly big eyes straight from a manga staring back, and Sho sees the panic in there. Maki-chan can move her head more freely now since there’s only one of Sho’s hands holding her in place, so Sho repositions his hand on top of her forehead, brushing a few stray locks of hair out of the way.  
  
“This is me helping, Maki-chan. This is me making your life far more interesting than you’ve expected it to be,” he says to the woman as he places the muzzle back between her eyes, and when a shooting scene comes up in the film, Sho makes sure Maki-chan sees him smiling before he’s finally pulling the trigger.  
  
Her blood splatters everywhere, some of it ending up in Sho’s face. The plastic sheets under them end up having bits of what looks like her brain, some of it getting on Sho’s feet. Jun didn’t even react at the sight, if anything he just looks as disapproving as he was right after he handed Sho the firearm.  
  
“Well that was just as boring as her life was,” is all Jun says in the end and before Sho can think on it he’s pointing the gun at Jun.

“You hated it that much, Matsumoto?” Sho asks him, feeling slightly annoyed. His temper obviously got the better of him this time but Jun doesn’t even blink at the sight of someone pointing a gun at his head. Typical. “Why let me do it if you’re going to say shit like that in the end?”  
  
Jun licks his lips and suddenly he’s pointing his knife at Sho, the stained metal glinting. Sho raises an eyebrow at that, because he thinks that if Jun chucks the thing in his direction, he would have already pulled the trigger by then.  
  
Jun’s grinning, like he’s truly enjoying this. He probably is, now that Sho thinks about it. “The next time you point that thing at me, Sakurai,” Jun says in an even tone, “is the last time you will ever get to point that to anyone because I will put this thing,” his forefinger taps at the flat part of the blade for emphasis, “right there between your brown eyes, just right above your cute button nose before you can even think of pulling the fucking trigger and blowing my brains out like you did to her.”  
  
Sho cocks the gun for effect. “That’s how you like it, don’t you? Me dying by your hand?”  
  
“I can promise you that when the time comes I’ll make sure to kill you myself, if that’s what you’re asking,” Jun says to him and Sho can see himself in Jun’s eyes, see how the revolver in his hand is nothing but an added dramatic flair.  
  
“I suppose you expect me to say that that’s an honor?” Sho says as lowers the gun and Jun inclines his head in thanks before doing the same thing with his knife.

“We’ll find out in time Sho-san,” Jun tells him before shooting a pointed look at the body before Sho. “Meanwhile, get to work.”  
  
Sho does, tucking the revolver in the waistband of his pants. He extracts her tooth easily, and he hears a shuffle of movement behind him. He doesn’t need to look to know that Jun is finally removing the cable ties using his knife, freeing Koyama from his bindings. The shopkeeper’s body sags against the chair and Sho hears a sick smack when the body finally hits the plastic-covered floor.  
  
Jun didn’t even think of lifting the body up. He just let it drop to the floor on its own.  
  
Sho finishes what he’s doing, standing up and doing the same thing he did earlier to Koyama’s tooth. With Maki-chan as the latest addition to their growing collection, Sho realizes it’s only a matter of time till they complete half of the set. Twelve. They just need twelve more and the first half will be done. He finds himself immensely thrilled by the idea of getting halfway.  
  
He’s too busy meticulously cleaning his tools that it took him a moment to realize that Jun is standing behind him. He feels one of Jun’s hands slide in between the waistband of his pants, his fingers lightly ghosting over Sho’s hip. Jun pulls out the .357 Sho tucked in there earlier, raising it in front of them before resting his chin on Sho’s shoulder.  
  
“You like this thing too much,” Jun says as he spins the revolver with his forefinger. “Too much.”  
  
Sho runs a hand down Jun’s forearm that’s wrapped around his waist till he reaches the hand that holds the knife. “You like this thing too much,” he shoots back, tapping the knife in Jun’s hand with a finger.

He feels Jun’s inhale his scent, and Sho knows he smells far more metallic than normal, but then again, Jun isn’t any different. Jun’s drenched in blood as much as he is, probably even more than he is. When Jun speaks next, he says it right against Sho’s ear, his breath sticky and hot.  
  
“I’m thinking of leaving them somewhere in Akihabara this time.”  
  
Sho hums noncommittally. That’s new. Jun usually suggests they leave the bodies where they picked them up or somewhere close by, but he thinks he knows why Jun picked that place this time. He smiles; making sure Jun hears him doing it.  
  
“All right,” he agrees. It’s not Sho’s job to think of a place anyway. That has always been one of Jun’s privileges, one Sho gave to him without question from the very moment they started this thing together. When he feels Jun plants a series of kisses against his neck, he lets go of Jun’s hand on the knife to place it on Jun’s nape instead, drawing Jun in.  
  
Jun chuckles against his skin, his breath turning the immediate flesh under his lips into gooseflesh. “At least you no longer smell like her,” Jun says before nipping the skin right under his lips and Sho grits his teeth to prevent himself from groaning out loud. Jun knows exactly what he’s doing to Sho because soon enough Jun’s licking at the spot he nibbled earlier.  
  
Sho finally gives in and moans Jun’s name, feeling Jun grin against the crook of his neck in response. Sho clears his throat in an attempt to right himself again. “Don’t you think we have all the time for this later?” he asks, and Jun just gives tiny huffs of laughter against his skin.  
  
“You mind the audience?” Jun asks back, gesturing to the pair of bodies in the living room, one on the floor and the other still strapped to a chair.  
  
“No,” Sho says breathlessly, “but I prefer we do this when we finally put them in Akihabara or somewhere.” Despite that, he still leans back to give Jun more access, baring his neck for Jun to suck and lick at, his fingers stroking Jun’s scalp.  
  
Jun gives a particularly hearty chuckle against his jugular before finally granting Sho some small mercy by letting Sho go at the moment. He offers a hand to Sho when Sho turns around to face him.  
  
“Shall we shower first?” is all Jun says when Sho raises an eyebrow at the outstretched hand, and he takes Jun’s hand in his own without question, the both of them leaving for Jun’s bathroom and leaving Jun’s latest masterpieces in the living room in the meantime.

\--

The media called it the Akihabara double homicide despite Koyama being from Sumida. The attention it garnered surpassed Mao-chan’s, and this time prime investigator Ninomiya states that there’s a high probability of the murders not being just the work of a lone perpetrator.  
  
“How thick are these people?” Jun asks in front the TV as soon as the news programs show nothing but reels of Koyama’s and Maki-chan’s mutilated faces. “What, the nose wasn’t enough then? We have to go bigger, Sho. At this rate, we have to pitch a little higher for them to finally get the picture.”  
  
Their body count increases quite rapidly after Jun made that decision. It only took three and a half weeks till the police found the body of one Abe-san, a hole on his chest and a pattern of finely-carved chains travelling from the gunshot wound before finally ending on his face. Jun insisted on the chains deisgn because Abe was a supposed serial adulterer (Sho doesn’t know the details exactly, he didn’t pick the man) who shared a drink with Jun and told Jun how he felt that his wife was chaining him to her so he continued sleeping with a lot of different people.  
  
Jun can be really predictable and direct to the point like that. Not as direct as Sho’s .357, no, but definitely transparent enough for anyone to see his point.  
  
Abe-san is followed by a Mori-san, a club hostess whom Jun slit the throat of, claiming it’ll be one heck of a necklace to have. Jun then made tiny swirls and patterns around the cut, saying it’s boring if it’s just one long gash.  
  
“It’s not my style, Sho. Do you understand?” Jun tells him as he works on Mori’s long neck, and Sho just nods.

Mori the hostess is followed by an Eikura-san, a temp working in the company across Sho’s. That one Sho picked himself, when the company he works for hosts a party with the nearby company. Jun got seriously pissed that night that Eikura’s face became indistinguishable to the point investigators had to resort to her personal belongings just to identify her.  
  
Eikura is followed by a Sato-san, a seemingly nice gentleman who just happened to sit beside Sho on the train. Sho remembers how Jun scoffed at Sato’s supposed kindness that he said to Sho with gritted teeth, “Let’s make sure everyone knows how nice he is, then. Make him an angel with that kindness of his.”  
  
Sato ended up with the top of his skull removed, his brain exposed for everyone to see. The head investigator Ninomiya seems to finally understand the symbolisms Jun gives each of their victims, because the following morning when Sato made it in the news he and Jun finally hear Ninomiya say, “Whoever’s doing this is showing us something else, something far more different  for it to be just ruthless murder. Whoever’s doing this wants us to see something else aside from the missing teeth.”  
  
Jun gives a slow clap at that, his head shaking as he does so. “Excellent work, Ninomiya-san,” Jun says to the screen.

Sato is followed by a Takada-san (Jun gave that one two long gashes beginning from the edge of his lips down to his chin because the man was, “a fucking computer nerd,” before carving squares all over his face), then a Kadono-san (got a pair of whiskers and cat’s eyes from Jun because of her professed love for the animals), then a Tanihara-san who got a bullet through the eye because he tried to run (Jun still made an example out of his face, carving out the man’s eye and putting it in his coat pocket for the authorities to find the morning after).  
  
After Tanihara there is a Wakana-chan from a maid café (Jun claims he made her cuter when he added cuts to her corner of her eyes and carved out patches of her cheek to give her a permanent blush), a Sawamura (who got spades and hearts carved on his face just because Jun felt like it), a Matsuzaka-san (a calligraphy teacher who Jun left a carving of his favorite kanji on), and many others. Sometimes Jun grows pissed enough that they leave them practically unrecognizable, sometimes he gets really patient and meticulous that he puts the most intricate things on their faces.

Either way, whatever outputs Jun have, he still proudly calls them art and Sho agrees with him every time.

The media keeps on reporting how the tooth fairy body count steadily increases, leaving investigators baffled and panicky and edgy, and Jun just laughing maniacally in front of the TV at their expense. Soon enough, Sho manages to get an almost complete set of teeth. He assembles each piece carefully, making sure they’re secure enough that they can hold themselves together despite being incomplete. For now.  
  
When he’s done he realizes the set only lacks three teeth, one more canine and two more molars. If Sho thinks about it hard enough he can probably name which tooth came from whom. Ikuta’s canine, adjacent to it are Mao-chan’s, Koyama-san’s, and Maki-chan’s. Abe with a molar here, beside him Mori-san and Wakana-chan, Eikura-san’s canine here, beside her an incisor from Tanihara. Sho remembers them all because he owes them much.  
  
“Three,” he says to Jun over coffee, not so different from that time he first laid out the plan for Jun to peruse over. This time though, Sho places the almost full set of teeth on top of Jun’s dining table. “That’s all we need.”

Jun grins at the set before him, leaning on his elbows. “Then let’s make it special so that they won’t forget. We’ll pick someone iconic for the last.”  
  
Sho frowns. “Who do you have in mind?”  
  
Jun smiles wider, his eyes still on the teeth. “Don’t you think that set can use a bit of color?”  
  
The following weekend he and Jun find themselves in a motel room somewhere in Hokkaido, because Jun wanted somewhere far from Tokyo for once, claiming it’s all about making things grand. Sho has no complaints about that, except for the fact that Hokkaido’s beginning to drop in temperature at this time of the year and he’s not really prepared for the cold.

That part, he complains a lot to Jun. “Hypothermia,” he says to Jun when Jun is sitting at the edge of the bed and Sho’s sitting in the middle of it, his back against the headboard. “Ever heard of that, Jun?”  
  
Jun just rolls his eyes before standing and making his way to the window, peeking through the blinds. He’s impatiently waiting for nightfall. Sho noticed long ago how jittery Jun becomes when he’s too excited for something, when he’s craving so much that he can’t contain it, when the bloodlust radiates off him in infectious waves.

Sho sneaks a glance at the floor, just right beside the motel bed. He remembers her name despite the gray body bag he and Jun stuffed her in. Ishihara-san with the pretty smile and the sweet-smelling perfume, the attractive lady Jun met at the souvenirs shop and subsequently lured into their room.  
  
The third to the last, Sho thinks. He lets his fingers run through the smooth surfaces of the small vial containing one of Ishihara’s molars. She was beautiful. Sho saw how her eyes sparkled once she realized who they were and it admittedly made him feel prouder than he ever felt before. He can still remember how Ishihara pleaded for her life again and again as Jun drained her blood. Sho looks to his left and sure enough, there are blood bags stacked on top of the dresser, all of them Ishihara’s.

When he asked Jun why he bothered to drain all of her blood this time, Jun simply looked at him like he just suggested the earth was flat and said, “I told you we’ll make it special, didn’t I?”  
  
Jun hacked half of Ishihara’s face when the bloodletting was completed and the body lay unresisting. Sho remembers how Jun made small and precise cuts on the right side of her face to expose the tissue and musculature underneath. Jun even made a clean division on her face, a very distinct split. When he asked Jun what it meant, why he left the half of Ishihara’s face intact and untouched and removed all the skin on the other half, Jun simply said it was a testament to her attractiveness, to her beauty.  
  
“To the beauty even you found yourself admitting,” Sho remembers Jun saying to him earlier.  
  
He hears Jun’s repeated whispers of, “Shit, shit, shit,” near the window, cutting him off from his recollections. Sho makes sure his back is resting comfortably against the headboard of the motel bed before he even turns to Jun.  
  
“What’s going on?” he asks Jun, making sure his voice sounds controlled, because he knows how much that will piss Jun off.

Jun paces the room, every now and then taking a big step to avoid Ishihara’s bagged body on the floor. Sho’s about to repeat his question when Jun says, “Someone reported her missing,” while shooting a particularly displeased look at the body near his feet.  
  
Sho hums. Well, that should be expected. Hokkaido’s a popular place for vacations. He thinks he can remember Ishihara saying she’s from Tokyo and that she’s on her much-awaited vacation. He forgot what she does for a living though. A part of his mind tells him it no longer matters, seeing as once they put Ishihara into place (near Kurisawa, Jun insisted) the media itself will tell them what she used to do before she ever thought of smiling for Jun.  
  
He tilts his head at Jun who resumes his pacing. “So what?” he asks, voice even and calm and this time, Sho doesn’t even fake it. He doesn’t see why Jun is panicking about this. Not when most of the attention and the authorities after them are Jun’s doing.

Jun whips his head sharply to face him, his glare as cold as the sensation seeping through Sho’s bare feet. “So what?” Jun repeats, a little breathless but Sho can tell he’s definitely seething, “So what, you say? If they find us, if they remember me and have seen me take her here, if they—”  
  
Sho dismisses him immediately with a “They won’t,” and a roll of his eyes.  
  
“They will!” Jun says suddenly, voice raised. “It’s the end game, Sho. It’s the end game for us if they do, and they will. Don’t you see? This is why we left Tokyo. They’re getting close. Ninomiya and his dogs found a pattern, our pattern, and they’re breathing right at our necks.”  
  
That’s true. Sho knows that to be true even before Jun said it out loud. Ninomiya has finally entertained the idea that there are two people in this arrangement, in this grand scheme that catered to Sho’s twistedness and Jun’s specific brand of artistry. Tokyo is under almost complete lockdown because of the two of them, curfews implemented.

Sho remembers the way Ninomiya said on the TV the other day that it’s only a matter of time. It was Ninomiya who caught on that they weren’t just picking random people, that they were picking people with perfect smiles. It was the head investigator himself who announced on TV that whoever the perpetrators are, they are almost done with their masterpiece.  
  
And he’s right about that, Sho thinks. Ninomiya’s right about that, now that he’s only missing two people to finish his set. Two more and it’s done, two more and Sho will complete his own artwork, the one he patiently worked on alongside Jun’s attention-grabbing pieces, the output he cannot wait to show the world.  
  
Jun slumps against the mattress, the additional weight making the bed creak. “We’re close to the end,” Jun says, turning his face to Sho’s side of the bed. “So close.”  
  
Sho puts the vial in his hand on top of the bedside table before focusing on Jun again. Jun’s practically vibrating with combined excitement and fear, and this close, Sho can feel some of that transfer to him. He understands Jun’s fear but not the cause of it. Jun has no problems with the idea of getting caught, the hangman’s noose doesn’t faze him at all and Sho knows that. What terrifies Jun is the possibility of Sho not completing his piece if they make one miss.  
  
Sho understands that because he shares the same fear. He has no problems with dying. He has no problems with getting shot while on the run. He actually prefers that option, considering that he has always preferred the quickness of the firearm. He prefers going down with the pool of his own blood under his feet or surrounding his prone body rather than sitting in a courthouse and listening to a trial that will no doubt sentence him to death.  
  
If it’s death, Sho prefers to meet his in the quickest way possible. He has seen how Jun plays with their victims. He has seen for countless times how Jun stood between life and death only to pick the way of agonizing death for thirty people already.  
  
He doesn’t want that. Sho knows he doesn’t want that and he thinks Jun knows that too.

“What do we do?” he asks Jun who shifts a little, his boots tapping nervously against the carpeted floor of the room.  
  
“We stick to the plan,” Jun says, voice even this time, and Sho lets out a small sigh of relief because Jun is back on track, his panic earlier ebbing away. “We stick to the plan, we find two people, we make the last one count. We make that last one exquisite and grand.”  
  
Sho makes sure he’s not looking at Jun when he asks, “And if they catch us? If Ninomiya and his pals finally get to us?”  
  
He doesn’t get to hide his surprise when Jun suddenly shifts to all fours in the bed and crawls to where he is, before dropping right next to him, the bed creaking noisily because of the movement. He feels Jun’s breath against his cheek when Jun says, “They won’t.”

Sho frowns before turning to Jun, their faces mere centimeters apart. This close, Sho can see the intensity of the look Jun gives him, can see his own face mirrored in Jun’s eyes. “They won’t?” he parrots back and Jun just nods. “You sound so sure of it.”  
  
Jun licks his slightly chapped lips because of the cold before replying, “I am sure.”  
  
Jun leans closer this time, to the point that when he speaks again Sho can feel Jun’s lips at the corner of his own lips. “They won’t get to you,” is what Jun tells him before he maneuvers to sit on Sho’s lap, his hands on Sho’s face.  
  
Sho gives in and surges a little upward to kiss Jun, who responds immediately. Jun’s in a hurry this time, the kiss is nothing languid like the ones they share in his apartment right after Jun just finished showing Sho his latest masterpiece. This kiss is heated, desperate, and clingy. Sho can feel it clinging to his insides and sweltering them, and when he tries to keep up with Jun’s pace, he tastes the familiar metallic tang of blood in his mouth. When he breaks off from Jun’s lips he sees Jun’s stained bright crimson, and Sho feels the warmth trickling from his lip down to his chin.  
  
Jun never plays to win. Jun always plays to decimate.  
  
He licks his lips to chase away the taste of iron. “Bit me already,” he accuses Jun, who simply laughs on top of him. Sho watches as Jun slowly licks away Sho’s blood on his lips. Jun leans into his space once more, breathing on his face, Jun’s hands undoing the scarf currently wrapped around his neck and tossing it somewhere behind him.  
  
“I won’t let them,” Jun tells him before they’re kissing again, and Sho notes how Jun focuses on sucking at that part of his lip where Jun bit him, how Jun’s practically tasting his blood. He fights back by keeping his hands on Jun’s hips, and Jun answers by rolling his hips against Sho’s and that’s it. Sho makes a growl in Jun’s mouth and he kisses Jun with a lot of teeth when Jun has the gall to laugh.

“Shut up,” Sho growls against Jun’s mouth. “Shut up, shut up.”  
  
His hands move to Jun’s vest, quickly sliding them off Jun’s shoulders and tossing them to the side of the bed. Sho doesn’t care anymore if it lands on top of Ishihara’s body. He fumbles with Jun’s shirt buttons and Jun distracts him by doing a deliberately languid roll of his hips. Sho can feel Jun’s hardness against his pants and he knows he’s no different.  
  
Jun helps him remove the shirt by moving his shoulders accordingly, and soon the shirt joins the vest. Sho feels Jun’s fingers move to the collar of the jacket he’s wearing, feels them push the fabric off his shoulders where they slide off way too easily for Sho’s liking. Jun breaks off their kiss to laugh against his lips.  
  
“I seriously admire your shoulders,” Jun says and Sho answers by removing the jacket himself, followed by his shirt. Jun just watches him take off his clothes with narrowed eyes, and when Sho’s done he leans back to Sho’s space, his forehead against Sho’s.  
  
“What was that bullshit you were raving about earlier?” Jun asks, his breath slightly sticky against Sho’s face. “Hypothermia? What?”

Sho moves one of his hands to grasp Jun’s jaw tightly and he forces his mouth back into Jun’s, but not before snarling, “Shut the fuck up.” It’s out of control, the way he kisses Jun is mostly teeth and he’s biting at Jun’s lips till Jun opens up for him, and after that he’s sucking at Jun’s tongue, Jun’s moans the only thing he hears.  
  
He fists one hand in Jun’s hair and pulls backwards, baring Jun’s throat and Sho licks up at the exposed patch of skin, sucking at Jun’s Adam’s apple and feeling it bob against his mouth when Jun swallows back a hitched moan. Sho grins, making sure he’s doing it against Jun’s skin so that Jun knows, before he’s biting, hard enough that Jun shudders and Sho has to steady him with one hand on his hip.  
  
“Fuck you,” Jun hisses through gritted teeth, but Sho feels Jun’s hands on his hair, the cold fingertips against his heated scalp and Sho lets out a little laugh when he realizes that Jun is pulling him closer despite the protest he just uttered.  
  
He sucks at crook of Jun’s neck, hard enough that he leaves a stinging mark against the skin, a different shade than the pale expanse spread right before his eyes. Jun puts one of his hands on top of the hand Sho has on his hip and Sho makes a mangled moan when Jun rolls his hips forwards, his clothed cock rubbing against Sho’s.  
  
He hears Jun’s little huffs of laughter above him, and Sho growls before flipping them, Jun’s back against the mattress, Sho looming over him. The shock knocks the air out of Jun and Sho sees how his eyes widen at the sudden change in position. Sho puts his hands on Jun’s wrists, and with surprise on his side, he has Jun effectively trapped under him.

Jun glares at him with gritted teeth and Sho proceeds to plant series of kisses down Jun’s body, mapping a trail with his teeth and tongue, hoping it’s enough to placate Jun’s aggression. He can definitely feel Jun still resisting, how he tries to struggle out of Sho’s grip, and Sho thinks that just won’t do. He gives one of Jun’s nipples a particularly hard tug using his teeth and Jun makes a low moan before Sho sees him biting his lower lip to keep any subsequent sounds to himself.  
  
He lets go of Jun’s wrists to run his fingers up and down Jun’s sides, and Jun buries his fingers in Sho’s hair, tugging every now and then to guide Sho’s lips wherever it is Jun wants him. His lips travel lower, licking at Jun’s navel till Jun’s hips surge forward on their own. Sho’s sure he’s smirking in the way that pisses Jun off so much and he lifts his head to let Jun see it. Jun’s eyes focus on his mouth and Sho’s aware how his lips glisten against the light the two lampshades from the bedside tables, and he makes a show for it by moistening them again with his tongue.  
  
“Down,” is all Jun says to him and Sho smirks. He makes a quick work on Jun’s jeans, and Jun helps him with getting them off by lifting his hips off the mattress. Sho yanks at the material hard enough that Jun clicks his tongue, but his annoyance doesn’t last when Sho proceeds to yank off his boxers next.  
  
He wraps his fingers around Jun’s shaft, the heated flesh a different sensation than the cold steadily traveling in his body. Jun’s hips surge forward in response and Sho puts one of his hands on Jun’s hips to keep him in place.  
  
“Stay there,” he says, mouth against the head of Jun’s cock, Jun’s eyes fixed on his.

Jun snarls at him, “Fuck you, Sakurai, you—” but it gets cut short and ends in a moan when Sho licks up Jun’s length, his tongue making a hot swipe from base to tip. When Sho looks up again, Jun is biting the back of his own hand to prevent any sound from coming out.  
  
Sho shifts his grip around Jun’s shaft before placing his lips back on the head. He then moves his hand to pump Jun as he suckles at the swollen tip, making sure he tongues at the slit every now and then. When one of Jun’s hand shoots out to grasp tightly at the sheets around them, Sho knows he’s doing something right.  
  
He maneuvers himself to a far more comfortable position between Jun’s legs before he moves his hand away from Jun’s shaft to cup his sack, stroking the skin there with his thumb and squeezing a little. Sho makes sure to breathe through his nose as he takes Jun deeply, his mouth going slack. He makes a well pressured suck and hums, and Jun’s hips surge forward again, making Sho’s eyes water when he feels the tip of Jun’s cock hit the back of his throat.  
  
He pulls away from Jun with a wet and obscenely loud pop. “I thought I told you to stay still,” he says to Jun while his hand continuously massages Jun’s balls.  
  
Jun raises an eyebrow before removing the hand that rests against his lips. Sho can see the indentations of Jun’s teeth at the back of that hand and he watches how the color steadily rises from Jun’s chest up to his cheeks.  
  
He looks so beautiful like this, Sho thinks. So beautiful and it’s all for him to see.  
  
“You told me to stay here, not to stay still,” Jun points out, his eyebrow still raised challengingly at Sho and Sho responds by moving his hand away from Jun’s scrotum to thumb at the slit of his cock, making Jun hiss, precome already leaking.  
  
“Fuck you,” Jun tells him, not for the first time tonight. “Get back to work.”

Sho pinches the skin right above Jun’s hipbone with the hand that’s on Jun’s hip. “Don’t be so impatient,” he says sweetly, his other hand lazily pumping Jun and Jun pushes himself to sit up on the bed using his hands.  
  
One of Jun’s hands moves to settle on Sho’s nape and the other grips his chin and forces it open, before Sho feels Jun pushing his head back down, his mouth slack and open and inviting, Jun finally fucking into his mouth in one smooth move.  
  
“You look so good like this,” he hears Jun murmur as he swallows Jun’s length down, the head of Jun’s cock hitting the back of his throat every now and then. “Just like this, Sho-san, your mouth like this, wrapped all around me.” Jun says the honorific in the same tone he uses when he walks up to random people and asks them to smile that it makes Sho’s blood run hot.  
  
Sho answers by humming around Jun’s length and Jun swears one last time before he lies back on the bed and moves his hips in time with Sho’s mouth, the slick sounds accompanied by Jun’s groans filling the motel room. Sho presses his tongue against the underside of Jun’s cock, his mouth stretched obscenely around Jun and Jun makes one guttural moan followed by a, “Fuck, Sho—” before Jun’s coming, the hot spurts hitting the back of Sho’s throat and Sho pulls away just enough to swallow Jun’s release.

He lets Jun ride the aftershocks before finally pulling away, thumbing at the corner of his mouth and grinning when Jun meets his eyes, Jun’s breath coming out in gasps.  
  
“Always knew your mouth’s more than good for that,” Jun pants before pushing himself to his elbows. He tells Sho to come closer with a slight jerk of the head and Sho obliges, crawling into Jun’s space and stopping when he’s breathing against Jun’s face.  
  
Sho kisses the corners of Jun’s mouth as he says, “I taste like you,” and Jun exhales a little heavily before answering, “I know.”  
  
Jun doesn’t kiss him though, and Sho contents himself with leaving short kisses on Jun’s chin, down to his neck. Sho’s painfully aware of how hard he is in his own jeans, the confines of the material too much for him so he shifts his weight a little to ease a bit of the friction currently threatening to bring him closer to the edge.  
  
He doesn’t even notice Jun fumbling to grab the tube of lube Jun himself stashed under one of the pillows, because when Jun presses the thing into his hands, Sho knows he’s not the one who put it there when they arrived last night. Jun merely raises an eyebrow at him when Sho looks at him, then Jun’s pointedly looking at the tube in Sho’s hands, a silent order for him to get on with it.  
  
He kisses Jun’s cheek before moving down, Jun settling himself back against the pillows. Jun places his arms at the back of his head before finally lying down, shooting Sho a haughty smirk from his position. Sho places one of his hands at the back of one of Jun’s thighs, pushing it up so he can place Jun’s leg over his shoulder. He slicks his fingers before pressing one against Jun’s hole, the tight ring of muscle clenching instinctively against the intrusion.

He hears Jun take a deep breath as Sho eases his finger in, slowly at first, till Jun’s telling him to, “Will you just—” but that’s all he gets out because Sho inserts another one in, making Jun's toes curl. He waits until Jun is used to it, till Jun is loose enough for another that Jun can tap his fingers against the bedsheet impatiently. Sho takes his time in stretching Jun open, watches how Jun’s face reacts at the burn of three digits inside him.  
  
Sho withdraws his fingers hurriedly when Jun says under his breath, “Might as well move things along if we’re thinking of the same thing here,”  making Jun whimper before he can trap the noise by biting on his lower lip. Sho gets off the bed to fumble with his pants, and suddenly Jun’s cold hands are on the waistband of his jeans, helping him along. Jun moved so fast that Sho didn’t even notice him leaving his place in the bed.  
  
Jun’s muttering, “Should have gotten this off earlier,” and Sho tilts Jun’s face up with a hand on his chin. He’s about to descend and kiss Jun when Jun stops him with a hand on his chest.  
  
“You’re not going to kiss me, Sakurai, oh no,” Jun says as he pushes Sho’s jeans down to the floor followed by Sho’s boxers. Sho steps out of the garments before Jun continues, “Kissing is not really what I had in mind.”

“Wait, I—” Sho tries, but he finds it hard to form the words when Jun lies back down and spreads his legs invitingly. Sho clears his throat to try again. “I don’t have anything.”  
  
Jun just shoots him a look of disapproval before pulling him back to the bed. “Who gives a shit?” Jun asks him as Sho plops down, sending him to his knees between Jun’s spread legs. “If you have ever been with anyone else I’ll fucking kill them right before your eyes.”  
  
Sho grins at that, his eyes flocking to one of the drawers of one of the bedside tables where he keeps his revolver. “I’ll shoot anyone else you ever thought of sleeping with, let’s be clear about that.”  
  
Jun shifts on the bed so that Sho’s right between his legs and the head of Sho’s cock is finally pressing against him. “Luckily for you I never really thought of fucking anyone else, so get a move on.”  
  
Sho does, taking a deep breath and pushing in slowly. Jun wraps his legs around Sho’s hips, pulling him in, and Sho makes a particularly hard thrust to fully sheathe himself inside, Jun moaning under him. Sho moves his hips experimentally, making short but hard thrusts, watching how flushed Jun’s cheeks are and how his mouth parts open when Sho’s balls are pressing tight against him.  
  
Jun clenches against him and Sho groans, knowing it’s taking every bit of his control to prolong this. Jun’s not helping him in any way, because he takes in Sho and squeezes around him just right, making Sho’s vision white at the edges. He falls forward, his arms on either side of Jun’s face, and Jun tilts his head to whisper against Sho’s ear, “Move,” and Sho abandons control and the idea of prolonging everything after that.  
  
He fucks into Jun desperately, Jun’s name on his lips with occasional hisses of yes and some swears, the motel bed creaking under them. Sho hears their bodies come together, the sweaty slap of his hips against Jun’s ass, Jun’s moans of Sho and gasps of faster and harder, Sho’s hands fisted against the pillows Jun has his head on.

“Jun,” he gasps, his hands pushing himself off the bed to gain a bit of leverage, Jun’s legs slightly going slack around him. “Fuck, Jun, let me just—” he tries, before placing one of his hands under one of Jun’s legs, maneuvering so he can put it on his shoulder.  
  
When Sho thrusts back in, he hears Jun make a whine he never made before, the new angle letting Sho bury himself deeper inside, Jun clenching and squeezing around him. Sho places his other hand against Jun’s hip, pulling Jun’s body to meet his slightly stuttering hips. Sho’s close, he knows it won’t take much till he comes and Jun’s groans do nothing but urge him on.  
  
Sho feels one of Jun’s cool fingers against his abdomen, and when he opens his eyes he sees Jun’s mouth parted, Jun’s breath coming out in gasps, but he’s looking at Sho when he says, “In me,” and Sho feels Jun’s other leg wrap around him to pull him even closer.  
  
“Just like this, Sho,” Jun says breathlessly and Sho swears, this time with finality, his balls drawn tight and cock twitching, and he’s finally coming, buried to the hilt inside Jun. His grip on Jun slacks, Jun’s leg sliding off his shoulder and dropping to the bed. Sho finally crashes beside Jun, one of Jun’s legs trapped under his weight until Jun shifts to pull it away and Sho has enough sense in him to lift himself a little to make way. They lie there for a while until Jun orders him to go grab a cloth so they can clean themselves.

“I don’t feel like moving,” Sho says defiantly, because his limbs still feel like jelly and he doesn’t trust himself to stay upright yet.  
  
“Grab something in the bathroom so we can clean ourselves,” Jun repeats with a slight nudge against Sho’s shoulder blade, and Sho shoots him a look.  
  
“Why me, anyway?”  
  
Jun turns to him with a grin, his flushed cheeks and brown eyes still discernible despite the minimal lighting. “You did the fucking,” Jun points out. “I’m too sore for anything thanks to you.”  
  
And Sho feels delighted about that so he huffs out a small, “Fine,” and hides his grin by getting up from the bed, carefully avoiding the body bag at the side. Stepping on her is an embarrassment he doesn’t want Jun to see, because Jun will most likely accuse him of damaging the goods even before they can make the delivery.  
  
He cleans himself and Jun sloppily, Jun clicking his tongue every now and then. Sho simply challenges him with an eyebrow, that if he doesn’t like Sho’s way of doing it then he can go ahead and clean himself up. Jun doesn’t say anything though, and when Sho’s done Jun pulls him back to the bed before finally kissing him again.  
  
Sho breaks off from Jun’s lips to say, “Last two,” and Jun just hisses a yes before kissing him languidly, mapping him out, and for a moment Sho forgets about everything, about Tokyo and its police force, about the final pieces he needs to complete the set, and just focuses on tasting Jun, the scent of Jun all over his body and filling his senses, Jun’s warmth mingling with his against the coldness of Hokkaido around them.

\--

When news broke out that the tooth fairy’s latest victim was found in Hokkaido, Sho watches how Jun laughs gleefully into his cereal as Ninomiya admits to the press that this is one move they didn’t expect, but Ninomiya claims he hasn’t ruled out the possibility of it happening so he’s not that surprised.  
  
With Ishihara, not only Tokyo goes on high-alert, but even places he and Jun haven’t been to. Tokyo still gets the highest protection though, seeing as twenty-nine of Jun’s works made their debut in Tokyo. Ishihara’s the special one, the one Ninomiya called on TV as the, “First of the final three,” and Sho sees how Jun smiles at that, how he claps in front of the screen and says, “He’s really sharp. I won’t really mind if it’s him.”  
  
Sho knows what Jun means by that, because Ninomiya is getting closer and closer to catching them and it’s only a matter of time. Sho knows Jun admires cleverness second only to art itself, and the fact that the chief investigator is smart enough to crack their scheme gets credit in Jun’s eyes. Jun admires Ninomiya for being the first one to see through the art, for being the first one to understand that Sho is making an entirely different piece on his own.  
  
“If he gets to us,” Sho begins, his eyes fixed on Ninomiya’s determined face on the news, “you really won’t mind at all?”

Jun tilts his head at him and gives him a look Sho can’t define no matter how hard he tries. It’s the look Jun gave him when Jun told him that he won’t let anyone get to Sho that night in Hokkaido. “Not us,” Jun says before smiling, “not us. He won’t get to you. I promised you that, didn’t I?”  
  
Sho nods. “You did. But what about you?” he asks, his voice uncertain and he’s sure Jun hears just how much. He wonders where does Jun fall into place in this. If Jun’s so certain that Ninomiya and his dogs won’t get to Sho, then what about Jun himself?  
  
Jun simply smiles wider, his tone calm as ever as he claims, “You really don’t need to worry about me, Sho-san.”  
  
Sho decides to push because it’s now or never. “I do. I need to worry because we’re in this together, so if they’re not getting to me, they better not get to you too. If they get to you, then they should get to me as well.”  
  
Jun moves toward him in confident strides and Sho holds his ground, his eyes narrowed and calculating, watching Jun’s moves like a hawk because there’s a chance Jun will just pull the knife out of nowhere and Sho likes to be prepared for that, at least.  
  
Jun stops when there’s only a breath of space between them and Sho steels himself. “I knew you’d say something like that,” Jun says, his eyes on Sho’s lips. “I just knew you were going to say something exactly like that.”

Then Jun moves away from him, not even waiting for Sho to say anything, and when Sho looks at Jun’s hands, one of them is clutching the knife like a lifeline. He didn’t even see Jun pull the thing out. Jun probably pressed the tip or the blade itself against his skin and Sho didn’t even feel it if Jun ever did.  
  
“Go out tonight,” Jun tells him. “Look around, watch how Ninomiya directs his underlings. We need to be extra careful if we intend to see this through the end.”  
  
Sho just nods, moving towards Jun to press a kiss on Jun’s cheek before doing exactly what Jun said. He finds out that Tokyo’s lockdown is as severe as ever, every bus, train car, and other means of transportation leaving the city is being examined thoroughly, checkpoints established every twenty miles or even less, depending on the area. He notices that the places near Omotesando get a stricter line of security, but Sho knows he and Jun look so far from being suspicious that he knows, without a doubt, that they will be able to see this entire scheme through the end.  
  
If Ninomiya gets to them, so be it. But Sho knows he will finish his piece before he’ll find himself either dead because someone from the authorities shot him or he’s simply awaiting his turn at getting hanged. Before he will die, Sho knows he will have what he wants and will see it completed, along with Jun having two final pieces to add to his personal collection.  
  
Ninomiya may be sharp, Sho thinks, but it’s not like he’s alone in this. If he slips up (unlikely, but one can never know), he’s sure Jun will call him out on it and do an immediately remedy before it induces any lasting damage. It’s why he and Jun has managed to evade Ninomiya’s clutches up to now. The investigator may be really clever for his department, but he’s always waiting for another body to turn up before he can determine his next move.

As long as he and Jun don’t feel like delivering any moment, Ninomiya will not know what to do next.  
  
Satisfied, Sho returns to Jun’s apartment and tells him that they will lie low for a moment, give it time. Lull the majority of the police force and the public to a false sense of security before striking again.  
  
Jun hums approvingly, flipping the knife between his skilled fingers. “What do you think of Nagoya?” he asks, the blade glinting against the light, a fitting compliment to the sparkle Sho sees in Jun’s eyes.  
  
“Perfect,” he tells Jun, “just perfect.”  
  
With that, he and Jun cease activity for three months. Three long months that leave Jun with a lot of tension and anger that he mostly channels in the kitchen of the restaurant he works for. Whatever tension Jun has left in him he channels to Sho, and Sho either helps Jun lose some of it or meets him head-on if he’s feeling agitated and restless himself.  
  
The inactivity is mostly effective. Mostly, because the public soon believes that it’s safe to go out and about just like before and most of the security is already becoming remiss in their duties. Only Ninomiya himself isn’t fooled, because every time he appears on the news he reiterates that the tooth fairy is only missing two final people to make his collection complete and that they’re only waiting for the opportune moment to strike.  
  
“He would have made a good accomplice, wouldn’t he?” Jun asks him one time and Sho finds himself nodding. Ninomiya’s too sharp, too smart to be swayed and fooled by something as simple as ceasing activity for the moment, and the investigator knows it. Sho thinks it’s such a shame not everyone is as clever as he is. It would have saved a whole lot of lives.

That weekend they find themselves in Nagoya, a little over three hours away from their usual turf. They left Tokyo separately, Jun insisting it’s safer that way and far less suspicious. So when Sho sees Jun leaning against a street sign, a cigarette between Jun’s lips followed by him exhaling a puff of nicotine, a distinct white smoke in a freezing night in Nagoya. Sho walks up to him, his steps small and measured given the cold that seeps through his winter boots, and Jun raises an eyebrow at him. Sho knows it’s Jun mocking him for the puffy cheeks he undoubtedly has right now, the way Sho shivers despite the pea coat he’s wearing.  
  
Jun taps on his wrist watch thrice, indicating wordlessly that Sho is late. Sho rolls his eyes, because of course Jun will point that out now. Of course.  
  
Jun steps forward to lean in Sho’s space, the scent of nicotine a little pungent from his breath when he speaks. “Pick someone tonight, and I’ll meet you back there. Preparation and shit,” Jun says before stepping away and discarding his cigarette to the ground, stomping on it with his boot.  
  
Sho watches Jun walk away before finally making his way to the more populated side of Nagoya, the place brimming with night life despite the cold weather. He treads through streets, through rows of people coming home from work, some clad in a similar outfit as Sho’s and are probably tourists, just like what Sho pretends to be right now.

When he sees a woman close to his age and she smiles when Sho attempts to ask for help, Sho smiles back and thinks of Jun, thinks of Jun waiting in the address he forwarded to Sho earlier, thinks of how Jun is going to enjoy this and will take out any frustration he has left on Sho’s guest.  
  
When the woman wraps a hand around his arm and rests her head on Sho’s shoulder, her gloved fingers pointing to city lights and her voice animatedly orienting Sho about Nagoya, Sho thinks of Jun and how Jun will definitely make this grand despite this not being the last one yet.

\--

Sho hears a sick-sounding slap followed by a muffled sob, the latter eventually swallowed by the sounds of a variety show audience laughing from the TV. He turns his head away from the screen (the personality just got mustard placed on the bags under his eyes) to look at Jun and the woman who helped him earlier, giving him a tour of Nagoya and accepting Sho’s offer of showing gratitude graciously and without question.  
  
Sho thinks that Jun is not the only charming one here, Jun’s not the only gifted one.  
  
He frowns at the sight of Jun not wearing gloves and reminds him of it with a simple, “Gloves,” and Jun turns to him, expression entirely unamused. Sho knows it will take Jun more than a reminder to actually make him do it, and he sighs in defeat.  
  
He feels Jun’s eyes on him and he knows that Jun is waiting for him to say something else, so Sho tries to look contemplative before going with, “We share the same birthdays.” He says this with a smile, and Jun turns his head slowly to look at the woman in front him before turning back to Sho. Sho nods when he meets Jun’s eyes again and repeats, “We do.”  
  
Jun keeps his eyes on Sho, tongue in his cheek and showing just how much he hates whatever Sho’s doing right now. Sho fights to keep the innocent smile in place. The point is that this is supposed to raise Jun’s ire. Jun has to be angry enough to channel most of frustrations on Tabe-chan (that’s how she wanted Sho to call him after she exclaimed that they share the same birthdays), given the three months of inactivity. Jun’s bored, tense, and obviously going all out tonight and Sho knows the only way to liven things up a little is if he pokes at Jun’s selfishness, Jun’s possessiveness and his tendency to assert control before finally giving in to his carnal desires.  
  
Sho might end up with a blade to the face or a cut here and there, but he knows it’s going to be worth it, so very much worth it to see Jun’s eyes go dark and his smile turn malicious, his fingers restless and the bloodlust taking over him. That’s what Sho wants to see, that particular side of Jun that he finds himself so fixated with to the point of obsession, that he tries hard to satisfy every bit of Jun’s demands and ensures he meets every single standard Jun has set.

The very same aspect of Jun that he finds himself unwilling to let go and hand over to anyone should their arrangement come to a close. Sho wasn’t lying when he told Jun he’d gladly put a bullet through anyone else Jun thinks of ever sharing a bed with. He remembers shooting a certain Mao-chan in the leg for simply daring to defy Jun, because Sho believes that part, that act of defiance is his privilege and his alone.  
  
Sho thinks he might as well die first before he’ll ever think of entertaining the idea of giving that up.

“Is that right?” Jun asks, to Sho or to the woman strapped to a chair in the center of the room, Sho doesn’t know, because the next thing he sees is Jun’s face right on his space, the blade placed right above his lips. Sho merely raises an eyebrow in question, in utter defiance, and Jun answers him with a hard yank on his hair, making him gasp in surprise.  
  
He feels the knife dancing lightly against his neck, the cool silver leaving small ripples of cold against his heated skin. Jun’s breath is on his face, the warmth of it a fine contrast against the knife he has on Sho’s bared throat. Sho keeps the defiant look in his eyes, knowing how much it gets to Jun and how Jun will gladly take everything Sho’s willing to offer because of this.  
  
Jun shoots a glance at their other guest in the room, her whimpers almost indiscernible thanks to the upturned volume of the television. “I’ll go back to you after I’m done with her,” Jun says when he turns back to Sho, his lips smiling but his eyes saying otherwise, full of promise that it sends a tingle down Sho’s spine.  
  
Jun walks over to the woman who tries to draw away from him despite her restraints. Jun crouches down before her, the knife flipping skillfully between his fingers. The blade glints in the light as Jun spins it continuously, and Sho’s eyes remain on the white of Jun’s wrist that holds the tool even as Jun speaks up.  
  
“You’re lucky I’m in a hurry,” he hears Jun say, the tone of his voice hard to place given the noise from the TV. “So lucky because I’m going to just make this quick and get it over with, because Sho here,” Jun pauses, shooting the woman a look of hate, “is that what he asked you to call him? What was it?”  
  
When Tabe-chan doesn’t answer fast enough for Jun’s liking Sho sees him land another backhanded slap on her cheek. “What did he ask you to call him?” Jun repeats, every word laced with anger Jun tries to unsuccessfully rein in that Sho has to fight the urge to grin.  
  
To think Sho only shared that they have the same birthdays. He thinks this is what stagnation does to Jun: it makes him impatient, edgy, ready to slit anyone’s throat and kiss the dying lips right after as a form of apology.  
  
Sho has never wanted anyone more than he wants Jun now.

“What did he say?” he hears Jun ask again, his voice full of vitriol. When Tabe-chan answers in a small voice, something Sho didn’t catch because the TV host suddenly laughed out loud, he sees Jun drop the knife and move his fingers to her throat.  
  
Sho frowns at that. “Jun,” he says, a little admonishingly. Jun’s too angry to the point he’s going to forego savoring the kill, something Sho knows he will undoubtedly regret later.  
  
But Jun just turns to him with narrowed eyes and says, “Watch. Watch as I leave her panting. I want you to watch as I squeeze her throat.” He turns back to the woman and smiles, deceptively sweet and kind, before, “I did say I’ll make it quick because I have unfinished business with your birthday pal here.”

Sho watches with interest as Jun squeezes Tabe-chan’s throat, the pale neck turning red at the pressure. He watches Jun as Jun takes in the sight of the woman’s dying eyes, how the fear there mixes with panic and desperation, how her lips part despite the gag and there’s nothing but choking sounds escaping from her mouth.  
  
Sho watches as Jun leans forward to whisper something in Tabe’s ear, something he can’t hear given the distance and the variety show playing. Tabe’s watering eyes shift to him, a look of helplessness and the unmistakable plea for help clear in her dark orbs. She lets out another choking sound, loud enough for Sho to hear despite the TV and Sho knows she’s mere seconds away from the end. Her body quakes despite the restraints, her feet tapping continuously against the carpeted floor. It takes a while, even with Jun’s fingers tightly wrapped around her neck, and finally, Tabe trembles one last time, her eyes wide in disbelief.  
  
A tear travels down her cheek and Sho watches as Jun catches it with his thumb, looking at the bead of salt first before putting it against his lips, his tongue darting out to taste.  
  
Sho inhales sharply. He won’t deny finding that incredibly erotic.  
  
Jun then stalks to him, his footsteps surprisingly loud against the carpeted floor. Jun picks up the remote to switch the TV off, before pulling Sho by the wrist to stand. Sho feels Jun’s arms on his shoulders, Jun’s lips against his ear when Jun says, “She said you asked her to call you Sho-chan.”  
  
Sho shudders at the sensation of Jun’s lips lightly touching his earlobe. “Maybe I did,” he gasps, his desire evident and his need obvious. He wants Jun. He wants Jun like this, when Jun’s holding a grudge over Sho’s choice and feels like teaching Sho a thing or two.

Jun pushes him back till his scapula hits the wall, the impact strong enough to rattle some of the picture frames the motel management hung for decor. The wind is nearly knocked out of him and Sho makes a gasp of surprise. Jun doesn’t let him say anything, just grabs the sides of his face and kisses him fiercely. It’s not sweet. It’s nothing but teeth and nips here and there, and when Sho tastes his own blood and tries to react to the sudden prick of pain, Jun swallows that moan with his mouth along with the metallic taste Sho’s mouth now has.  
  
Sho makes a low noise when he feels Jun fumble at the waistband of his jeans, and soon enough Jun sends his pants along with his boxers down to the floor, Sho clumsily stepping out of them. Jun is in a hurry, he’s got his hands on the hem of Sho’s shirt before Sho even thinks of removing it. Jun discards the shirt somewhere behind them, his lips on Sho’s neck and one of his hands already stroking Sho.  
  
“Fuck,” Sho manages, his hips moving in accordance with Jun’s hand on him, and Jun answers with a bite on Sho’s jugular, hard enough that it makes Sho hiss between his teeth.  
  
“Pocket,” Jun tells him, his teeth relentless in their assault on Sho’s neck, and it takes a beat for Sho to understand but his hand moves weakly, feeling around Jun’s hips to find his pants pocket. He pulls out a packet or two, he honestly can’t count not when Jun’s pumping him and flicking his wrist _like that_

Sho moans, low, his hips surging upward in time with Jun’s hand. Jun’s other hand takes the packets from him, pulling away from his neck to rip the packaging with his teeth. Jun momentarily lets go of his grip on Sho and Sho groans in disagreement. Jun squeezes a generous amount of lube on his fingers, coating each digit to his satisfaction before moving between Sho’s legs, bypassing Sho’s cock and perineum to rub against his hole.

Sho thinks he moans Jun’s name out loud when Jun inserts a finger inside. His palms are flat against the wall, clinging to them a little desperately as Jun stretches him slowly, Jun’s eyes watching his every reaction. Sho makes another gasp, this time opening his eyes to look into Jun’s eyes. Jun has his eyes narrowed, an expression of concentration on his face, and soon Sho feels him add another finger, the burn making Sho arch off the wall, but Jun’s other hand keeps him place by pushing his shoulder back.  
  
Sho keels at the feeling of Jun’s fingers pressing against his ass, his hips rolling involuntarily to meet Jun as Jun slides his fingers back in. Jun’s watching him intently, his eyes focusing on every part of Sho’s face and Sho decides to indulge him, letting out slightly garbled versions of Jun’s name with a little please thrown in every now and then.  
  
Exactly how Jun likes it, Sho thinks.  
  
Jun’s fingers feel strangely big inside him, filling him up and making him feel boneless, his knees weak and trembling, his cock lying neglected between them, between his heated skin shivering from the cold and Jun’s fully clothed one. Now that Sho thinks about it, Jun never bothered to undress. When he tries to point this out, that’s when Jun inserts a third, his knuckles doing a steady in-and-out, and Sho sags most of his weight against the wall, his head thrown back and thumping loudly against the thick wood.  
  
Jun is pressing, fingers unforgiving and continuously searching, twisting every now and then and making Sho cry out, not minding if anyone is next door to hear them. When Jun’s fingers ghost lightly over his prostate, Sho’s eyes snap open at the sensation, his mouth parted and too dry for any sound to come out. Sho looks down and finds himself leaking, his own cock leaving wet and slightly sticky smears against his abdomen.

Jun intends on making him come just like this, and he realizes he guesses right when Jun leans forward to say against his cheek, “I want you to come like this,” his voice gravelly and his breathing hard, “just like this Sho, with my fingers inside you and no one’s touching you but me.”  
  
Sho whimpers when Jun pulls away, and his eyes widen in slight alarm when one of Jun’s hands wrap around his throat, the metal of Jun's ring resting right above his Adam's apple. Sho has no idea if he can comply with Jun’s request without working himself up, but he knows Jun will angrily slap his hands away if he ever tries to reach in and grab himself, so he doesn’t dare. Jun’s hand on his throat is enough to tell him about that. It’s a warning and Sho’s sure it’s the only one he’ll get. He also knows that Jun will just continue fucking him with only his fingers until he finds a way to make himself come as Jun ordered for him to do. Jun is very persistent and determined like that.  
  
Sho bites on his bottom lip when Jun continues with the pressure against his prostate, the tingling sensation climbing from the insides of his thighs down his toes, making them curl. He bucks up, meeting Jun’s fingers and closes his eyes when he hears Jun murmur, “Just like this, Sho, just for me. Only for me—”

Sho tenses momentarily, a mangled groan escaping from his lips and he’s close, so close and Jun hasn’t done anything except fuck him with his fingers and continuously whisper in his ear, but Sho thinks that’s what does it. Jun like this, Jun’s hands on his throat and inside him at the same time, Jun’s lips touching his earlobe and his repeated, “For me, just for me, mine, Sho—” is what makes him tip over the edge in the end. Sho comes, a sob on his lips followed by Jun’s name, clenching and shuddering and he feels boneless and breathless, like there’s no air in his lungs despite Jun’s hand not squeezing his windpipe.  
  
In his daze, Sho manages to catch Jun hurriedly pulling his fingers out and fumbling with his own jeans, just enough to free himself, and Sho just lets Jun hoist him up, Jun's large and ringed hands on Sho’s thighs and Sho cooperates by wrapping his arms around Jun’s shoulders and his legs around Jun’s hips.  
  
Jun doesn’t even ask, he just pushes in with one hard and brutal thrust and Sho swears at the sudden feeling of Jun inside, Jun balls-deep in him and filling him up. Sho feels the scratchy material of Jun's denim against his ass and he curses. Of course Jun doesn't bother taking his pants off completely. Jun doesn’t wait, he simply pushes Sho against the wall for leverage, his hands on Sho’s backside and then he’s pulling out only to push back in, not holding back and letting Sho just feel it all the way to his toes.  
  
Sho scratches his nails against Jun’s still-clothed back, trying hard to grip for purchase by fisting the fabric in his hands but Jun doesn’t let him, just thrusts inside him and fucks him hard enough that the force of it sends one of the framed decors hanging on the wall down to the floor with a dull thud.  
  
Thank fuck the floor is carpeted, Sho thinks, and that’s all he gets to think about because Jun’s losing his rhythm, mindlessly thrusting into Sho and Sho just has to take it, clinging to Jun’s shoulders as Jun tilts his head to breathe against Sho’s face, his breath sticky and voice desperate when he says Sho’s name.

Sho decides to use that moment to get even, tilting his head to kiss Jun who responds sloppily, and it’s not really that much of a kiss, more of Jun mouthing wetly and panting hard against his skin. Sho pulls back a little to say, “Come, Jun,” his eyes ready to meet Jun’s when Jun suddenly snaps his eyes open at the sound of Sho’s voice. “Come for me, come on.”  
  
Jun swears, thrusting hard into him one last time before spilling himself hot inside Sho, his body pressing Sho back to the wall, making it difficult for Sho to breathe. Jun pants against his cheek before lowering his legs back to the floor, Sho’s weight still sagging mostly against the wood behind him, his knees wobbly. He feels sticky, remains of his own release cold against his stomach along with Jun’s that is steadily climbing down between his legs. The combined feeling becomes increasingly uncomfortable as the seconds tick by.

Jun’s clothes are clinging tightly to his body because of the exertion, and Sho waits for the inevitable click of the tongue once Jun gets back on track. He thinks it’s sufficient payback, the fact that his legs feel simultaneously sticky and wobbly and he’s too sore for even something as simple as walking. Sho’s sure he’s got burns on his back and he’s not looking forward to lying on the bed anytime soon.  
  
Thank Jun for that, he thinks bitterly.

When Jun makes an annoyed _tch_ Sho allows himself to chuckle, Jun shooting him an accusatory look.  
  
“Not really what you had in mind for your precious Comme des Garçons, huh?” he taunts, and Jun pushes him back against the wall in retaliation, his head hitting the hard polished wood and making him gasp.  
  
“Shut up,” Jun snarls, his fingers yanking hard on Sho’s hair before kissing Sho, brutally and without finesse, stealing what’s left of Sho’s breath. Jun licks at the spot where he bit Sho earlier, picking at the small scab and making Sho bleed again, and all right, whatever, Sho thinks, totally not minding the hot oozing of his blood and the taste of it as long as Jun continues kissing him.  
  
After, when Jun’s sated and Sho can finally move, he rolls on the bed to watch as Jun hacks off Tabe’s face with precision, leaving only the skin surrounding her eyes because Jun apparently enjoyed the fact that she shed one last tear. He then stuffs pieces of her skin in her purse, cleaning her meticulously (“I told you to put on some gloves,” Sho says and Jun spits, “I would have if you didn’t think of sharing the birthday tidbit.”) and together they leave her sitting unsuspiciously in a park bench, just like what they did to salary man Ikuta from Akasaka back then.  
  
“Such a shame the trees aren’t blooming this year,” Jun muses when he has his head pillowed on Sho’s shoulder in the train ride back home. “They would have complimented her pure image, don’t you think?”  
  
Sho thinks of Tabe’s smile and one of her molars in a vial that’s safely tucked inside his pea coat. He hums noncommittally, remembering how that night went.  
  
“Jun,” he says with a slight nudge, “Jun, we only need one more.”  
  
He hears more than sees Jun’s grin. “Yes, and I already have someone in mind.” Jun shifts to look at him and Sho gets the sudden urge to kiss him because of course Jun already found the perfect finale. Of course Jun already knew Sho’s going to love whoever it is Jun brings him any moment soon. He wants to kiss Jun but in the end he resists and simply settles for smiling back.  
  
“You’re going to love him,” Jun says confidently, and Sho leans a little to pillow his head against Jun’s before saying, “I really don’t doubt that.”

\--

Sho gets introduced to a Nakajima-san only two weeks after Tabe from Nagoya who shared the same birthday as Sho himself. Jun comes inside the apartment carrying a body of probably a salary man in his forties over his shoulders. There is a bag over the man’s head and Sho sees how his wrists and ankles are already secured by cable ties.  
  
He tilts his head at the sight. “He didn’t come willingly?” he asks Jun, who makes a groan after dumping the man’s body on the floor.  
  
“No, he did not,” Jun says, wiping his forehead with his sleeve. “And guess what, he knew who I was and what I wanted the moment I asked him to smile. I figured that means we have quite a reputation.”

Sho is not surprised about that. The security in Tokyo is heightened despite Tabe being found in Nagoya. Ninomiya wasn’t fooled and he openly declared on national television that he is expecting the final tooth fairy victim to be in Tokyo, and that he is expecting it will be someone special indeed. Sho remembers Jun laughing when they watched the news that night, remembers Jun’s continuous murmurs of, “Oh he really knows, he knows, he knows,” over and over again.  
  
Sho looks at the man currently lying at the center of Jun’s living room. He doesn’t look so different from Ikuta, and vaguely, Sho wonders what’s so special about this man that Jun picked him for their final piece. Sho’s own piece is missing only one tooth, one more canine and he turns his gaze to the almost complete set perched on top of Jun’s kitchen counter.  
  
“Let me guess,” he says contemplatively, and Jun just gives him a small nod. “You had to drug him?”  
  
“Partly,” Jun answers while pushing Nakajima’s body in position, something very much akin to Ikuta’s back then. “You have some really weird stuff there, Sho. He was feeling the effects of it in less than an hour when I asked him to smile and yet he still tried to run.”  
  
Sho frowns, slightly concerned. “And no one saw you?”  
  
Jun glares at him, as if saying, how dare you doubt me. “Played it off like he’s my drunken boss or something. People didn’t really ask when he just dropped to the floor and I immediately rushed to his aid.”  
  
That’s sloppy. Sho thinks it’s incredibly alarming that Jun’s so relaxed about this. There’s a reason they pick those people standing in those less populated and dimly lit places. There’s a reason their approach has always been to find someone, lure them in with kindness. Their success is partly due to the lack of witnesses around, and even if someone ought to have seen them, they always make sure they go unnoticeable enough to not even be worth committing to memory.  
  
“Jun,” he says, voice laced with fear and panic, and Jun looks up at him with a frown on his face, making him look more menacing given the lighting in the living room. “Jun, you caused a scene.”

Jun’s eyes narrow at that. “Did I?” he asks, his eyes moving to the prone Nakajima lying near his feet.  
  
Sho wants to hit him. Ninomiya and his team are searching for them tirelessly, their breaths ghosting the nape of Sho’s neck as well as Jun’s in their proximity. Sho knows it’s only a matter of time till Ninomiya catches up to them, and this Nakajima in the center of Jun’s living room might just be the final piece Ninomiya has always been waiting for to finally get to them.  
  
Sho closes his eyes in frustration, his breath coming out in angry huffs. “Jun,” he says, voice weak and slightly cracking, “you caused a scene and because of that they will find us.” He had his doubts with Ninomiya’s abilities before. Sure, the man was cleverer than everyone else in his department, but he wasn’t sharp enough to be able to predict their next move, that is, until this. Until Jun undoubtedly let everyone else in that bar remember him.  
  
"They will undoubtedly find us," he repeats, his voice soft but still audible in the apartment.

The moment Nakajima turns up on the news, it will only be a matter of time till Ninomiya finishes the puzzle. And Sho knows there’s no other option other than to kill Nakajima, seeing as Jun said earlier that the man knew instantly who Jun was and even tried to run.  
  
There’s something inherently special about Nakajima then, that the man’s first instinct is to get away after simply being asked to smile. Sho walks to where the man is, ignoring Jun since he feels like hitting Jun for the lack of precaution but only resists. He grabs at the bag around the man’s head and removes it without care, his other hand already examining the man’s teeth and that’s when he sees it.  
  
He remembers Jun asking once, “Don’t you think that set can use a bit of color?” even before Ishihara with the pretty face from Hokkaido.  
  
“Perfect, isn’t he?” he hears Jun ask from behind him and Sho just nods. Yes. What else could this be other than that? This man is the perfect finale, the final piece Sho didn’t even know he was looking for. He was content with the idea of getting a full set of pearly whites, each tooth coming from a different person and yet matching perfectly when put together, but no, here comes Jun with Nakajima-san, presenting Sho with a gold-coated canine.  
  
He needs to have this man’s tooth, he realizes. Tonight Sho will finish his set, his masterpiece finally complete after more than a year into this.  
  
Sho turns to Jun, his eyes intense and focusing on Jun alone. “I need him,” he says, low but audible and the intent in it unmistakable. “I need him, he’s the final one.”  
  
Jun smiles at his enthusiasm. "Of course you do, of course he is. Let them find us, Sho-san. This is my present for you. We'll make it grand. I'll make it a show." He steps closer to Sho before saying, “I’ll make this one last.”

Sho has no idea what Jun means by that, but in his understanding, it’s Jun’s way of acknowledging that after Nakajima, they’re basically fucked, they’re just waiting for the inevitable which is Ninomiya getting his hands on them at last. Sho’s certain more than enough people in that bar remembered Jun, and Nakajima himself isn’t hard to forget given the gold he has in his mouth.  
  
The two of them combined is exactly what Ninomiya needs to finally close this case and condemn him and Jun. In a sense, Sho thinks Jun kept his word. He did make it grand by dragging the police force with him. Sho wonders if there’s anything far more fitting other than the idea of him and Jun spending Christmas by avoiding the authorities. It’s so like Jun to raise the hurdle like this, after all. So like him to add more thrill in this manner, and worse, Sho can’t truly hate him for it because it’s part of who Jun is.  
  
He keeps his eyes on Jun as Jun slaps Nakajima awake, the man groggily trying to discern Jun at first before trying to scramble away from him once recognition settles in. The man doesn’t get to move at all despite the scrambling he did, the smooth plastic under him restraining any form of calculated movement.  
  
He sees Jun lick his lips. “Since you know who I am and what I do, I’m going to grant you the easy way out.” Jun crouches before the man and grabs a fistful of his hair, the terrified eyes staring back at Jun’s entirely unremorseful ones. “You’re too perceptive for your own good, you see. But I need you, or rather,” Jun pauses, tilting his head at Sho’s direction, “he needs you, so we’ll make this quick.”

Jun pulls out the knife from his boot, an unlikely location for him to stash his favorite. He taps the blade against Nakajima’s jaw. “You get to choose, Nakajima-san,” Jun says conversationally, like he’s not in a hurry and he’s not seconds away from stuffing the knife somewhere. “This,” Jun taps the blade a little forcefully for emphasis, “or the preference of the gentleman behind me.”  
  
Sho takes that as his cue to walk over Jun’s TV set, feeling around for the grip of .357 he keeps in there. He waves the firearm at Nakajima’s direction, just enough for him to see what option two is.  
  
He hears Jun grin and sees him nodding from his periphery. “But don’t worry, Nakajima-san,” his voice calm as ever, even reassuring now that Sho tries to place it, “whichever you choose, it’ll be quick. I don’t really have the habit of turning back on my promises.”  
  
Sho snorts at that, because Jun is such an ass who ensures his every threat is laced with kindness. It’s in Jun’s voice, the way he speaks to each of the victims they had before, the way he makes them all believe they might have a shot at this provided they choose to say the right things. He coos at them, feeds them false assurances before stomping on their newly found hopes without another word.  
  
it makes Jun equally ruthless and selfish, capable of kindness and generosity when the situation calls for it but also capable of so much more, something deeper and more sinister.  
  
Nakajima just openly sobs, a plea spilling from his lips every now and then despite the cloth gag. Sho sees Jun pointedly roll his eyes before pulling on the man’s hair harder, making him shed more tears. “Choose, or I’ll give you both and that will be a first,” Jun says, his eyes now hard and filled with impatience.  
  
Sho sighs, getting Jun’s attention. Jun doesn’t turn to him though, just inclines his head slightly. “Nobody chooses the gun, Jun,” Sho points out. “So you might as well make the choice for him because he probably still thinks there’s option number three somewhere.”

“Which is?” Jun asks, urging him to continue despite not looking at him. Nakajima’s eyes are now on Sho, and Sho meets his stare calmly before he smiles.  
  
“Not dying, I guess.”  
  
Jun snorts loudly at that, tapping the flat of the blade with more force that the impact of it against Nakajima’s cheek is heard throughout the apartment. “There is no option three,” Sho hears him say in a serious tone. “And if you think begging will make me change my mind, I will jam this right between your eyes.”  
  
Sho moves toward Jun’s wine rack, running the muzzle of the revolver against the bottles. He makes sure they clink audibly, just to add to the setting Jun’s currently crafting. The seconds tick by, only the sound of metal hitting glass, plastic creasing accompanied by heavy breathing with occasional sobbing get heard as time passes. Sho knows Jun is getting impatient, and he gets proof of it when Jun suddenly says, “Didn’t think you’ll waste this chance but all right,” and the next thing Sho sees is the handle of knife sticking out between Nakajima’s eyes.

Jun lets go of the man after that, Jun's hands and face stained with blood. He inclines his head a little to tell Sho it’s his turn, and Sho stuffs the gun in the back pocket of his jeans before getting to work.  
  
“Don’t pull it out,” Jun says from behind him, when Sho has his hand on the knife handle. “I want it there for now so leave it.”  
  
Sho does, proceeding with his routinary extraction without another word. He knows that Jun is watching his every move, probably contemplating now that this is the end of their arrangement. Sho wants to point out that Jun himself ensured that part, given the spectacle he had only hours ago, but he doesn’t because he thinks he said enough earlier.  
  
Let Ninomiya get to them, Sho thinks resolutely as he finally holds the golden canine between his fingers. Let him find them and Sho will gladly show them his own masterpiece.  
  
He moves away from Nakajima and Jun takes his place dutifully. Sho hears the wet sound of the blade being pulled out, an indication that Jun is finally starting. Sho proceeds to clean the tooth meticulously, the metal around it glinting beautifully against the light. He grabs the rest of his materials and crouches a little as he works on Jun’s kitchen counter, putting the final piece into place.  
  
He and Jun work in silence, concentrating equally on different tasks. Sho with his set, Jun with his finale. They’re the perfect example of accomplices and a part of Sho wishes Ninomiya is here to see this. Sho thinks it’s such a shame that the investigator will never be privy to the process itself, because the way he and Jun work separately is surely some spectacle to see.  
  
When Sho is done he pulls back a little to examine his work carefully. Each piece is perfectly positioned, the sizes of each matching the one adjacent to them. The shades of white vary from tooth to tooth, highlighting distinctness at every nook and cranny even if viewed from a different angle. The single gold tooth glints enticingly, adding color and elegance to the set.

Sho stands on wobbly legs, placing a hand on top of the counter to support his weight. He’s breathing hard, the idea of completion and finality only sinking now, the feeling unbelievable. He’s flooded with a sudden sense of accomplishment, that everything he and Jun did led up to this, from a simple number proposition over a morning coffee to a lustrous metal sparkling under the light.  
  
He unconsciously smiles at the sight. It looks better than what he imagined it would be, and he has no one else to thank other than Jun. It’s Jun who added the finishing touch, and yet, every piece of his work reminds him of Jun, Jun’s precision and work ethic, his tendency to sound patient before giving in to impatience, the look in Jun’s eyes before he goes for the kill—intense, fiery, passionate.  
  
It’s Jun himself, Sho realizes. What he just finished is nothing but a testament created to show how he sees Jun, and the best part is, the completed set has Jun’s touch in it, a fitting finale in the form of a precious metal, something Sho didn’t even consider before.  
  
So what if this final tooth is going to incriminate them? Sho’s initial worries vanish as he continues to stare at his work, something that took more than a year to complete. It’ll be worth it, Sho thinks. This set he finally finished, this tour de force that initially catered to an extension of his supposed oral fixation that ended up being something that symbolizes Sho’s only accomplice, Sho’s sole muse will be worth it.

He cannot wait to show it to Ninomiya and his henchmen when they finally get to him and Jun.  
  
He hears Jun hum approvingly from the living room, and Sho sees nothing but red when he turns. It’s all over Jun, his hands, his face, on the sleeves of the dress shirt he didn’t bother to remove. It’s all over the floor, an almost-black pool of ichor smeared messily on the plastic. Jun sneaks a glance in his direction, his eyes narrowing a little at the finished set. Sho turns the set for Jun to see it in front view, and Jun smiles, his teeth looking too white against his crimson stained face.  
  
“Merry Christmas,” Jun tells him, amusement dancing in his eyes. Jun steps aside to show his work and Sho’s breath stops for a moment. Nakajima is on the floor, his face surprisingly intact except for the wound bleeding profusely between his eyes. His chest is cut open, blood continuously oozing from it. The man’s hands are placed on top his stomach, his palms cupping something and when Sho squints, he realizes it is Nakajima’s heart.  
  
Jun has never done something like this before.  
  
“Do you know that Christmas song, Sho?” Jun asks, and it’s only then that Sho realizes Jun has been looking at him the entire time.  
  
He tries to think, frowning a little as he recalls different Christmas songs played frequently in almost every public place due to the approaching occasion. When it dawns on him he finds himself laughing, Jun soon joining him by quietly chuckling.  
  
“How fitting,” Sho says, praising Jun for his uncanny ability to astound Sho only to amuse him almost immediately after.  
  
Jun shrugs his shoulders, smirk never leaving his stained face. “This will be a present for Ninomiya, and I really think he’s going to love it.”

It’s then that Sho understands that this is exactly what Jun meant when he said he was going to make it last. Jun intends to let Ninomiya catch up to them, this time with finality, to the point that their remaining days together will count for something more and hold more meaning. It’s Jun’s way of spending Christmas with Sho, which is obviously their last one together. Sho doesn’t need a Christmas song and Nakajima’s heart on his hands to tell him that.  
  
He’s starting to realize that Jun caused a scene on purpose, that his true intention was to get Nakajima in the most memorable way possible, all because Jun is so adamant on making an impressionable exit.  
  
“You want us to get caught,” Sho finds himself whispering, his eyes never leaving Nakajima’s heart currently lying on the man’s palms.  
  
Jun hums, his knife flipping between skilled fingers, the metal glinting every now and then. “Maybe,” Jun says, lips twitching. “Maybe not. Who knows?”

No one does, Sho realizes. Not even Jun. Jun did as he would always do, going for the flair and considering the consequences later, or probably never. This time he did something that will undoubtedly incriminate them, but Sho thinks, if Jun doesn’t care, why should he? He turns back to the finished piece placed on top Jun’s kitchen counter. He has what he wants. He finally has it and it looks beautiful, as captivating as Jun himself right now, despite Jun being drenched in blood.  
  
“Let them,” Sho murmurs. Jun focuses on him, Jun’s hand stopping in its movement, his fingers wrapping around the knife handle. “Let them find us,” Sho continues, meeting Jun’s eyes. “Let them get to us.”  
  
Jun smiles wider, and Sho thinks Jun looks at him approvingly when Jun tilts his chin up. “You’re finally getting it,” Jun says, every word filled with praise.  
  
Sho crosses the distance between them, placing his hands on either side of Jun’s face. “Let them, I don’t mind,” he says, his eyes on the markings around Jun’s lips, still noticeable despite the blood. Sho thinks of the teeth on their side, of Nakajima’s heart acting as Jun’s Christmas present for Ninomiya, of all the people they had to make this happen. He thinks of all their names, of all the means and measures he and Jun took to lure them in, starting from Ikuta.  
  
He looks at Jun and hopes that Jun can see his determination. “I don’t mind anymore.”  
  
Jun doesn’t respond, just leans forward to meet Sho halfway, and Sho just lets him take what he wants, as he always did. Sho has what he wants anyway, so he thinks it’s only fair to let Jun have what Jun wants, whatever it is. Sho may not know exactly, but he knows whatever it is Jun craves for is related to him in one way or another.  
  
Sho gives in, his decision made.  
  
It was only a matter of time, anyway.

\--

It didn’t take long for Ninomiya and the entirety of the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department to put the pieces together. In fact, if Sho considers it, it took them less than the time he expected them to do it. Nakajima’s death garnered an overwhelming media attention, the heart reference isn’t lost to the public given the season.  
  
Jun left his marks on Nakajima on purpose, the evidence sufficient enough to incriminate him. A manhunt begins for Jun and his accomplice (as the media put it, because Jun made sure that the evidence points to him alone but Ninomiya isn’t swayed), and that’s how Sho finds himself in the passenger side of Jun’s car, sirens sounding loudly from somewhere behind them as Jun floors the gas.  
  
Jun is laughing, the giggle he gives full of nothing but pure happiness, obviously enjoying everything. Had it only been minutes ago when Jun entered his apartment, his eyes wild and searching? Had it only been minutes ago when Jun rushed to him and told him to get in the car, Sho following without another word?

It didn’t seem so, with the way Jun is laughing now. Sho turns to the GPS to check where they are headed, and sees that it’s somewhere in Koto. “Jun,” he says, voice slightly raised because Jun still doesn’t stop laughing, “where are we going?”  
  
Jun just laughs again before making a sharp right, one of Sho’s hands grabbingg for purchase against the car window. “You’ll see,” Jun says, his eyes sparkling in their intensity. “I’ve waited for this.”  
  
From his position Sho feels his revolver digging on his hip, the cold metal reminding him that he still has something else along with the set of teeth he has on his other hand, the gold canine glinting every now and then as he and Jun pass by a dozen streetlights.  
  
He’s almost sent across the road when Jun hits the brakes a little forcefully, stopping the car in front of a large warehouse. Sho has no idea what they’re doing here, of what could possibly be in here that Jun had to stop when they have Ninomiya right behind them.  
  
“Come with me,” Jun says, unfastening his seatbelt and Sho does the same, the both of them getting out of the car and entering the warehouse through the back. Sho remembers the scent of salt when he got off the car, his mind already placing this warehouse somewhere by the sea.  
  
What does Jun want in here?  
  
He squints in the darkness momentarily, Jun standing right behind him. Sho’s about to say something when Jun turns on the light, and when he looks around, he finds the warehouse empty, dust motes in the air around them, the combined scent of the sea and of abandonment flooding his senses.  
  
He hears the loud wailing of sirens outside, his eyes immediately searching for an alternative exit. Jun’s blocking the one they just used (and Sho suspects Jun locked that one too), and in front of Sho are two massive metal doors, barred shut with a billet of aluminum. Sho knows it won’t take long for Ninomiya and his men to attempt to break that door down.

He hears Ninomiya’s voice over a megaphone, asking for their surrender and claiming that they’re already surrounded. Sho notes it’s a little different than hearing him speak on the TV. Ninomiya specifically addresses Jun, who holds out a hand to Sho, asking, “Shall we?” before leading Sho to the center of the warehouse.  
  
When he and Jun hear the telltale sounds of Ninomiya’s men forcing the door open, Sho reaches around his side instinctively, his fingers fumbling for the grip of his revolver, and he looks up sharply at Jun when his hand finds nothing but air. Sho narrows his eyes at the sight: Jun’s outstretched arm, Sho’s preference on his ringed hand, the muzzle facing Sho. Jun cocks the hammer of the gun, the sound deafening in the emptiness of the warehouse.  
  
"What now, you're going to plug me?" Sho asks, _dares_ , his eyes wild and focused only on Jun's face, the way the shadows add to the ferocity Sho sees in Jun's eyes. His other hand tightens its grip on the set of teeth he’s holding, the edges leaving deep recesses on his palm.

Jun doesn't even react at the question, doesn’t give any indication that he heard it, and the next thing Sho hears is the sound of the trigger being pulled, the next thing he sees is the familiar lack of remorse in Jun's eyes and Jun’s broad smile.

Jun is smiling with too much teeth for the bullet not to be his.

And Sho is going down, his hands flying to the spot where Jun just put a bullet through, and Sho knows this is it, this is it for him. He falls to his knees, clutching at his chest, that space just below his heart, feeling pools of warmth ooze out and draining away every bit of his life, sucking out any energy he has left. There’s a tiny clang indicating that he just dropped the set of teeth he was holding tightly in his other hand.  
  
Sho hears a flurry of activity outside, the deafening sound of a man’s voice over a megaphone barking orders here and there. He looks up at Jun before he’s inevitably lying on the ground, sees Jun's head tilted in slight interest. Sho lies there in front of Jun in the pool of his own blood, his breath coming out in desperate gasps, and Jun slowly walks over to where he is, footsteps echoing loudly before he crouches down, low enough so his mouth is right above Sho's ear.  
  
"This is how much I love you," Jun whispers, every word he speaks makes his lips come in contact with Sho's earlobe. "To the point that I will never allow anyone else to earn the pleasure of killing you."  
  
Sho hears the sirens outside, the continuous screeching of tires against the pavement indicating more backup and a dozen footsteps stomping against the concrete, all of it ringing in his ears. He hears the way the lamp overhead swings, the way he’s fighting for every breath. Everything is so loud and overwhelming, his senses fully heightened. He suddenly remembers Jun’s words in Hokkaido. He feels as if he should have known all along, but maybe he does know. It would explain why he tries to meet Jun's eyes despite it being difficult to do so.  
  
"You've always been selfish," he accuses Jun, but there’s no fire in it, no hate. He’s merely stating a fact.  
  
He hears a shuffle of movement coming from Jun before feeling Jun's hand pry away the hands he placed on top of the gunshot wound. Sho can feel how the warmth of his own blood flows freely, dampening the ground around them, its metallic scent filling his nostrils and making him hazy.  
  
Sho has never felt more alive.  
  
His vision darkens, but he feels Jun's hands on his wrists and Sho is smiling for reasons he will never know. The last thing he hears is Jun's reply of, "You've always been my masterpiece," before he feels Jun place the full set of teeth right above the hole in his chest, the gold one still glinting invitingly despite the somewhat inadequate warehouse light, the weight of it surprisingly noticeable against his chest.  
  
He feels Jun's lips against his own, notes the extent of Jun's selfishness with the way he ensures that the last remains of Sho's breath is still his to take, and after that there's nothing, nothing anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic came from the song Who Are You, Really? by Mikky Ekko.
> 
> Their scheme here is something I explicitly owe tumblr user pastellights. This fic won't be here without her, so for a brief history on how this story came to be, please click here [[1](https://twitter.com/roseofanne/status/541222958769774593)] [[2](https://twitter.com/roseofanne/status/541251684572205057)] [[3](https://twitter.com/roseofanne/status/542680873657581569)]. The only things I can claim as my own are the way they murdered the victims and the way Jun left his signature on each and everyone of them. Rose, I hope you enjoyed inspector Ninomiya here despite his lack of lines. He's really clever anyway, so just imagine him with the fringe and all. ♥ Merry Christmas.
> 
> The drug mentioned in this fic is an actual brand name for a Z-drug (Zolpidem to be exact), commonly called a date rape drug. I studied those kinds of stuff for my board exams a few months ago so I can vouch for the accuracy.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading. I will greatly appreciate any form of feedback regarding this story because I've never tackled something this before and I'm not certain how it turned out.
> 
> eta (02/08/2015): This fic now has a graphic, which you can find [here](http://sandralovesyou.tumblr.com/post/108582383740/au-meme-sunblades-asked-serial-killers). My many thanks to Sandra for catering to such a request! ♥


End file.
